


All That You Can’t Leave Behind

by akajb



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Drama, Developing Friendships, Drama, F/M, Finding Inner Strength, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akajb/pseuds/akajb
Summary: When someone from Claire's past makes an unexpected re-appearance in her life, she needs to choose whether to face it or run away from it.Pre-Jurassic World AU.Trigger Warning: This story does deal with abuse. Not sexual and not graphic.
Relationships: Claire Dearing & Owen Grady, Claire Dearing/Owen Grady
Comments: 75
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? A new story? Yup. This one will be 8 chapters in total and I've got a complete draft of it already written. (Yay!) Like most of my stories, will update every Thursday evening.
> 
> Huge **Kudos** and **Thanks** to **Nadin** and **Elise** for beta-ing and providing as always encouragement and motivation. A large chunk of this first chapter was directly inspired by Elise's fic [The Mark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212846/chapters/30224148). 
> 
> Trigger Warning: This story does deal with abuse. Not sexual and not graphic.

**Chapter 1**

" _Skipping one night of studying really won't hurt your GPA," Sarah, Claire's college roommate, whined. "You don't get points for how many nights in a row you can sit pouring over textbooks. That's not what the college experience is supposed to be."_

" _I don't know why I chose to take this biology class," Claire replied, not looking up from her textbook. "It's so confusing. I don't remember biology being this complex in high school. I_ liked _it in high school."_

" _Well, staring at the textbook some more isn't going to make it all of a sudden make sense," Sarah said, reaching out and pulling the book in question away from Claire. "Your brain could use a break. One night. All I'm asking is for you to come out for one night. You can be right back at this tomorrow morning."_

" _Fine," Claire grumbled, pushing away from her desk. "I think there's a study session tomorrow. Maybe I can find someone there who can help me out."_

" _Or, maybe you'll find someone tonight," Sarah said, giving an overexaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows when Claire looked over, causing the two to break out in laughter._

" _I'm not taking an_ anatomy _class," Claire said, shaking her head, when she finally got her laughter under control._

" _Too bad," Sarah replied with a wink. "But, come on. Let's go."_

" _Don't I need to change?" Claire asked, glancing down at the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing before taking in Sarah's outfit only to realize her friend was dressed similarly._

" _Not that kind of party," Sarah said dismissively, tossing the textbook back onto Claire's desk before grabbing Claire's hand and pulling her along. "It's just people hanging out in the common area."_

" _Oh, well, in that case," Claire dug in her heels, glancing back towards her desk and the abandoned textbook._

" _No, you're coming," Sarah insisted. "Give it a couple of hours. Please. Stop making me have to go alone."_

" _Like you really need me there," Claire said, but she allowed herself to be dragged out of the room and down the hall._

_It wasn't long before she could hear the commotion coming from the common area. Thankfully, it seemed to be more the sounds of people talking and laughing, and less blaring music. Maybe it'd be okay after all._

_Stepping through the door, Claire continued to trail after Sarah as she scanned over the room, taking in who was there. It was mostly people she recognized — others who were also living in the building — but there were also a few that she didn't._

_Then her eyes landed on TJ Dalton. And, of course, that was the same moment she walked into the back of a chair. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at her, and she quickly recovered, turning her attention back to Sarah and where she was going, trying to prevent the blush from creeping up her cheeks._

" _Let's get a drink," Sarah suggested, looking back over her shoulder at Claire, and Claire quickly nodded her agreement._

 _They crossed the room to where someone had set up a table to be a bit of a bar, cups and drinks scattered across the top and in a couple of coolers below it. And clearly at least_ one _person there was over 21, as one cooler was overflowing with cans of beer. Claire was going to grab a soda, but before she could Sarah pressed a beer into her hands._

" _Maybe you'll loosen up a bit," Sarah said with an easy grin. And while Claire knew her friend meant it to be friendly, she had to bite her lip to keep from saying what she really wanted to say._

_Everyone had always told her that college would be the best time of her life. And that she was so lucky getting to go to one away from home, as she'd get to reinvent herself, instead of being stuck with all the assumptions people had about her from going to school with her for years. So far, it didn't feel like it was working out that way. Or, maybe more accurately, it felt like that who she was — someone who studied hard, and wanted to do well, and was interested in her future — wasn't what anyone wanted. Textbooks were a lot less judgemental than other people._

_Opening up the can, Claire took a small sip, trying not to grimace at the taste. Beer was not her drink._

" _Oh, Rob's here," Sarah suddenly squealed and before Claire even had a chance to say anything, Sarah was already halfway across the room._

_Groaning to herself, and now on her own, Claire took another sip and started to turn around to survey the room, just as a hand landed on her back._

" _Excuse me."_

_Claire almost choked at the sound of TJ's voice. And she quickly stepped to the side, carefully swallowing her sip of beer._

" _Thanks," TJ said, reaching past her and into the cooler for his own can of beer. And suddenly, Claire was glad that Sarah had handed her one and she wasn't standing there clutching a soda like an idiot._

_TJ popped the top and took a long swallow before his gaze drifted back over to Claire, studying her for a second before saying, "Wait, you're in my bio class, right?"_

" _Um, yeah," Claire said. "With Professor Smyth."_

" _Right," TJ nodded. "You sit at the front, don't you?"_

_Dammit, Claire could feel the blush rising up her cheeks. Why was she such a dork? "Yeah," she finally replied, realizing she needed to say something._

" _I'm so lost in that class," TJ admitted after he had another gulp of beer. "I don't know why I'm taking it. I'm not going to be a science major."_

" _Same," Claire agreed, finally feeling herself start to relax. This was a subject she could talk about. "I mostly thought it'd be fun." She paused when TJ gave her an odd look, before stammering, "I mean, I liked biology in high school. But this… is not that."_

" _No, it's not," TJ said._

_Claire was so sure he was going to walk away at that moment, sure that he was bored with her and ready to move on. But he lifted his beer and swallowed what was left of it, before tossing the empty can towards the garbage and reaching into the cooler for another._

" _Do you need another?" he asked, holding it out towards her._

" _Oh, no, I'm still working on this one," Claire replied, compulsively having another sip. She'd barely drank a third of it so far._

 _She watched as he opened the new one with a shrug and took his own sip, before leaning back against the counter behind him as he turned his attention back to her. Wait, did that mean he wanted to talk to_ her _? Claire tried to look relaxed, taking another sip of her beer and offering him a small smile. Maybe this party wasn't going to be so bad after all._

o-o-o

"You're coming tonight, right?"

"What?" Owen said having only been half paying attention to whatever Barry had been talking about. The two were in the holding pen giving Delta and Blue quick checkups.

"Tonight," Barry repeated, sounding exasperated.

"What about tonight?" Owen asked, looking over at his friend.

"Don't tell me you already forgot," Barry groaned, before his eyes narrowed. "Wait, you're just pretending aren't you. You're not getting out of it this time. You gotta come."

"I don't see why I need to go to _anything_ ," Owen disagreed, running his hand down the back of Blue's neck as he felt for any abnormal bumps or changes. "There's a reason I'm not living in the employee housing with the rest of you."

"Right, which is exactly why you _need_ to come," Barry said, crouching down beside Delta as he looked her over. "You gotta get out more, Owen. Make some friends."

"Why do I need to do that? I've got you," Owen asked with a quirked eyebrow, before chuckling lightly at Barry's scowl. "Besides, I know a few others. I mean, I've met that control guy — what was his name, Larry?"

"–Lowery–"

"Right, him. And there's the vet person who keeps coming out here, you know who I'm talking about, doctor… doctor–"

"Dr. Griggs."

"Dr. Griggs, I knew that," Owen quickly repeated the name, ignoring Barry's eye roll. He stepped back and moved around to the other side of Blue. "Easy, girl," he told the raptor, running his fingers lightly down her snout as she fidgeted within her harness.

"The fact you can't remember anyone's name is exactly _why_ you need to come out tonight. Besides, Claire's coming…"

Owen tried really hard not to flinch at the name, instead playing dumb. "Who?"

"You know who," Barry replied with a snicker.

"Why should I care that she's going?" Owen tried to sound casual, like he didn't care, keeping his focus on Blue and refusing to look towards Barry. Blue snorted, a low growl escaping her, and Owen realized he'd stopped rubbing her snout and he quickly started again.

"You're really going to try to pull that innocent act on me?" Barry asked. "You're really not that discrete, you know."

For a moment Owen froze, until Blue started huffing again as she nudged her head against his hand, shaking him back into action. "She's never gone to a single one of these," Owen finally replied. "Why would she go tonight?"

"Just telling you what I heard," Barry said, standing up from his crouch and moving to the front of Delta, similarly to Owen, running his hand down the raptors snout.

While Owen was pretty sure that Barry was wrong, that there was no way that _Claire Dearing_ was going to be there tonight, he couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of hope.

Even though he'd been working at Jurassic World for coming up on three years now, he'd rarely ever interacted with Claire. Not that that had prevented him from knowing who she was. _Everyone_ who worked at Jurassic World knew who she was. Owen had watched in awe as other employees had scrambled out of her way when Claire would walk by, or the way they'd quickly break apart from gossiping when they could hear the tell-tale taps of her high heel shoes coming down the hallway. Personally, he didn't really get the fear that the employees had shown. Nor did he really believe all the "ice-cold bitch" style rumours that floated around. Well… not really, that is. Then again, he'd ended up so tongue-tied the couple of times he'd ever interacted with her, his mind going completely blank, that he couldn't really remember what he'd ever said, or how she'd ever responded.

But none of that had stopped him from developing a bit of a crush on her (even if he hated using that word — it made him think of the way his sister would talk when she was in high school and he liked to think he'd outgrown the "crush" stage). Although, considering how Barry was now outright laughing at him, Owen knew that he hadn't been all that subtle about his feelings.

"And who told you?" he couldn't help but ask, trying to redirect the conversation.

"I ran into Lowery when I was grabbing lunch today," Barry said. "He told me that Claire was grumbling about it all morning."

"That doesn't sound like confirmation she's actually going to be there," Owen pointed out.

"I'm just telling you what I heard," Barry repeated, holding his hands up with a slight shrug. "You're right, maybe she won't be there. But if she is and you don't go…"

"Ugh, you suck, you know that, right?" Owen said, causing Barry to laugh. Owen ignored him and instead gave Blue a final pat before he stepped back from the raptor. "You done over there?"

"Yeah, Delta's all good," Barry confirmed, stepping back as well.

"Good, let's get them back out with the others. I still want to do another run through of the hide-and-seek drill."

"So, does that mean you're going to come tonight?" Barry asked as Owen moved over to the control panel. Owen didn't answer, instead just pressing the button to release the gates.

o-o-o

With her head held high, Claire took a deep breath before pushing the door of the sports bar open and walking in. She _really_ didn't want to be there, but, well, she'd promised Zara that she would.

Claire was pretty sure that by _not_ attending, she'd actually be doing the right thing. After all, who wants their boss to come interrupt their evening when the whole point is to blow off steam from work? How can you do that with your boss (or boss's boss) _right there_? However, even though she'd argued that (" _Zara, no one wants me there_.") somehow Zara had still talked her into it. Probably because she'd promised to stop asking if Claire finally went.

The good thing (at least, she was hoping it was a good thing), was that at least tonight's event was taking place at one of the on-island bars. She knew, from Zara's past stories, that others had taken place either over on the mainland (and Claire did _not_ want to get stuck there) or sometimes at someone's place (which Claire figured would be even more awkward and harder to get away from). Since the bar would likely be busy with regular guests as well as the work group, Claire was hoping to just sort of slip out unnoticed as quickly as she possibly could. She just needed to make sure that Zara saw her there first.

As Claire walked through the crowd, she scanned it over, trying to pick out someone she knew. Thankfully, it was pretty easy to separate out Jurassic World guests from workers. The guests always had that very distinctive "tourist" look to them — not just in clothing, but in attitude — while the workers always looked somewhat annoyed by the guests. After pushing past a noisy group of what looked like frat boys (ugh, she forgot it was near spring break time), Claire finally spotted Zara off to the side, with a group of people who pretty much had their backs to the rest of the crowd, probably trying to tune them out.

Pasting on a smile, Claire crossed over to Zara's side, gently tapping her assistant (and friend) on the shoulder, to let her know she'd arrived.

"Claire! You made it!" Zara exclaimed, spinning around, a wide grin on her face. She had some sort of fancy looking drink in her hand, the brightly coloured liquid sloshing about precariously with her sudden move.

"I told you I would," Claire replied with a tight smile.

"Still, I have to admit I thought you'd probably bail," Zara admitted, dropping her voice a little.

"Well, I'm here," Claire said, not wanting to get into it.

"Oh, we should get you a drink," Zara said, turning back to the table. "We've got some group pitchers of beer if you want—no, wait, you don't drink beer, right?"

"You don't drink beer?"

Claire turned to see who had asked the question, only to find Lowery on her other side. She should've known. Probably most of the employees there tonight wouldn't dare say something like that to her, but Lowery had never known how to keep his mouth shut.

"Not my drink," Claire said.

"But, but," Lowery stuttered. " _How_?"

"Simple, I just don't drink it," Claire replied with an eye roll.

"Let's get you a cocktail or something," Zara butted back in, pulling on Claire's hand. "C'mon, I'll join you."

After Claire got a gin and tonic, she returned with Zara to the group, although she stayed on the outside, sipping her drink and mostly trying to disappear. While she recognized most of the people there, none of them were people she'd normally choose to spend any of her non-working hours with, Zara excluded. Besides Lowery, there was Vivian and a couple of others who worked down in the control room and a few scientists. Alec, Zara's fiance, plus some of his friends from the ACU arrived about ten minutes after Claire.

It wasn't that there was anything _wrong_ with the group. It was more that Claire just felt like she had nothing in common with most of them. In fact, she actually felt kind of _old_ , listening to a lot of their chatter, which was really not making the evening feel any better. How long did she have to stay to be polite?

When Claire finished her drink, she used the excuse to back away from the group, heading back up to the bar and getting a refill. However, on her way back to join everyone, the set of pool tables down one side caught her attention. They'd all been occupied when she'd arrived, but now the one at the back was sitting empty. Her gaze briefly darted over towards Zara and the others, before she changed direction, hurrying across the space, certain that someone was going to beat her to the table.

But no one did, and soon Claire was racking up the balls, and picking a cue from the selection along the wall. Claire wasn't _great_ at pool, but she wasn't bad either. Besides, playing pool brought back memories of her childhood and evenings hanging out in the basement with her dad. Moving to the end of the table, Claire set down the cue ball and lined up her shot. With a crack the ball hit the others, scattering them across the table, and even pocketing one of the striped balls.

"Nice break."

Claire was glad she'd just stepped back from the table. She was so startled by the words, she was sure she would've fumbled and possibly gouged the table with her cue. Swinging her head side to side, trying to figure out who commented, she was surprised to discover that she'd been joined by none other than Owen Grady, raptor trainer "extraordinaire" or, at least, that was how he'd been described to her. She hadn't actually had all that many interactions with him herself.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Owen immediately apologized, noting her reaction.

"Mr. Grady, what are you doing here?" Claire asked before she could stop herself. "I mean–" She cut herself off, wincing as she briefly dropped her gaze to the ground before raising her eyes back to meet his, expecting to see him laughing at her or storming off. Or, well, she wasn't sure _what_ she expected, exactly. However, he was still standing there, an easy smile on his face.

"It's Owen. And I was hoping to have a game of pool," Owen replied. "I noticed you were alone over here and thought I'd see if I could join in." When he glanced away, Claire followed his gaze back towards where Zara and the others were. None of them were looking in their direction, though. "Unless you don't want any company, in which case…" Owen backed up a couple of steps, hands held up in a peace offering.

"No, I mean, sure, you can play," Claire stumbled over her words, before wincing again. "Do you want me to re-rack the balls?"

"No, we can play from here," Owen said, stepping over to the wall to select a cue. Claire waited for him to turn back around. "You sunk a stripe, right?"

"Yeah," Claire nodded. She finally focused her attention on the table, taking into account where all the remaining balls had ended up. "Um, what rules do you play by? I'm pretty relaxed about it and don't usually worry about calling shots or sinking in order."

"That's how I usually play, too," Owen said.

Claire noticed an easy shot, and so she rounded the table and took it, sinking a second ball.

"Although," Owen commented from the side, as Claire circled the table to line up her next shot, "Maybe I should've asked if you're a pool shark before I agreed to play."

"I'm not," she disagreed with his assessment. "I'm just not entirely terrible." She took her next shot, but the striped ball bounced off the corner pocket. "Well, normally not terrible," she amended, as she stepped back. "What about you?"

"Likewise," he said as he lined up his first shot, easily sinking one of the solids. He took a couple of steps to the left before sinking a second shot. And then a third.

"Are you sure?" she asked, an eyebrow arched as she watched him. But his fourth shot went wide, causing the cue ball to sink instead.

"Whoops," he flashed her a bit of an embarrassed grin as he fished the ball out of the pocket before handing it over.

As Claire debated where she wanted to take her shot from, she could feel Owen eyeing her from the side, and finally she glanced over at him, annoyed. "What's with the look?"

"What look?"

"Like you're… I don't know, analyzing me or something," Claire replied.

"I'm not, I'm just… considering how much you seem to enjoy pool, I'm kind of surprised I haven't seen you out at one of these…" Owen floundered for a word to describe the night's event as it wasn't really a party. "...gatherings?" he finally went with, grimacing a little over the word.

"You come to these often?" she asked, propping her hip against the side of the pool table, the game temporarily forgotten.

"Not all of them, but yeah, when it works out," he nodded. "Not a lot to do on the island otherwise."

Claire wasn't really sure how to answer him, knowing how most people usually took her response. Then again, why should she care what he thought? "I don't usually have the time," she said with an easy shrug, before pushing back from the table and lining up her next shot.

"Zara usually comes," Owen remarked.

"And?" Claire asked, glancing up at him briefly, an eyebrow arched, before refocusing and taking her shot.

"Well, she's your assistant, right?"

Claire had been circling around the table, looking for her next shot, but at Owens' comment, she paused and turned to him. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, if _she_ has the time…"

"She's my _assistant,"_ Claire repeated his words back to him. "Her schedule is lighter than mine. And, regardless of what people like to say, I don't _try_ to work my employees to the bone." She tried to make the end of her comment sound lighthearted, but she knew it came out slightly bitter.

It seemed to surprise him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…" Owen once again had his hands up in surrender.

"It's fine," Claire replied. "But this," she waved a hand to gesture between the two of them, "is why I usually don't come. I know people like to come and blow off steam about work and such. Hard to do when your boss is right there."

"Even bosses need to blow off steam," he replied. Claire looked over at him in surprise at that. "Trust me, I know."

"Really? Isn't Hoskins your boss?"

"He is, unfortunately, but I wasn't talking about him. I'm responsible for most of the crew working at my paddock. I know what it's like."

"Oh, right." Claire looked back down at the table, trying to fight off her embarrassment. She knew that about him, of course.

Focusing back on the game, she took her next shot. The two played out the rest of the round mostly in silence and it wasn't long before Owen sunk the 8-ball, bringing it to an end. Before Claire could figure out what to say, he was already pulling the balls back out of the pockets, rolling them towards the foot of the table.

"Another?" he asked, as he grabbed the triangle and started placing the balls within it.

"Sure," she quickly agreed, happy to have an excuse not to have to rejoin the others.

If Owen was surprised by her response, he didn't show it. The second game started off quiet, but then Claire broke the silence after Owen managed a pretty impressive shot. After that, the ice seemed to be broken again, and they chatted easily, mostly just about the game they were playing.

As they finished up their second game, this time Claire managing to pull off the win, it was Claire who suggested they go for a third.

"Best two out of three?" she asked as she reached into the pocket after the 8-ball.

"Yeah," Owen replied, having already grabbed the triangle and moved around the table to start racking the balls.

"Wait, before we start," Claire paused him, "I want to grab another drink first."

"Good idea," he agreed, looking down at his own empty beer glass that was sitting on a table off to the side. "I should, too. What are you drinking? I'll get us refills."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," she protested.

"We probably both shouldn't abandon the table if we want to keep it," he noted, tilting his head towards a table off to the side.

"Good point," she agreed, noticing that the people at the table he had pointed at looked like they were keeping an eye on the pool tables, waiting for one to free up. A part of her, a _larger_ part of her than she wanted to admit, felt like she should hand over the table. After all, she and Owen weren't guests on the island. But, she was also actually having… fun? And since her night was going way better than she'd expected, she didn't want it to end now. "A gin and tonic please?" she requested. Owen nodded before heading over to the bar.

Claire finished racking the balls and moved the cue ball down behind the headstring and then chalked up her pool cue, trying to look busy as she waited for Owen's return.

"So, I was thinking," he said as he approached the table, a drink in each hand.

"Didn't know you did that," she replied, happy to see him chuckle at that, as she accepted her drink. When was the last time she'd casually joked around with someone? Besides Lowery, that is. Although, that was more Lowery thinking he was funny and Claire mostly trying not to show her annoyance.

"Since we're doing best two out of three, I was thinking we should make this one more interesting," Owen countered.

"How so?" she replied, intrigued.

Owen took a swig of his beer. "I was thinking we'd put some stakes on the line," he said. "Like, if I win, you have to go on a date with me."

Claire couldn't help it, immediately bursting out laughing. A date with him? That was a joke, right? There was no way he'd want to go on a date with _her_. But the frown on his face and the fact that he didn't join in on her laughing…

"Really? You want your 'prize' to be a date?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" he replied defensively.

"Nothing," Claire quickly said. "But, I'm going to win, you know. So you're not going to get one."

"Does that mean you accept?" he asked.

"Well, what happens when I win?"

"I have to go on a date with you?" he suggested, and Claire frowned. "I don't know, what do you want?"

"If I win…" she trailed off, unsure how to finish. What _did_ she want? And from Owen? Her eyes lit up. "If I win, I get to bring a group of investors by the raptor paddock."

"What? No way," Owen shook his head immediately. "No outside people at the raptor paddock, you know that."

"These aren't just anybody. They're investors. They're the reason your raptors even _exist_. Besides, I thought you were confident that you would win?"

"I _am_ confident," Owen insisted. "But that's not–" He cut himself off, and Claire wondered what he had been about to say. Instead she watched as he appeared to be having an internal argument with himself, before he clenched his jaw briefly and then held out his hand. "Fine, you've got a deal."

"Excellent," she said, shaking it. "I look forward to showing off your raptors. I'm sure the investors will be impressed by all the tricks they can do."

"They don't do _tricks_ ," he said, sounding horrified as he pulled his hand back. "I–" He finally noticed that she was grinning, biting her lip to suppress a laugh, and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, just for _that_ , I am _definitely_ going to win."

Claire took a sip of her drink before moving back to the head of the table. Even though there was now a bet, the atmosphere between them actually felt lighter, the two of them teasing each other, both with words and actions.

At one point, Claire made sure to pretend to be checking out Owen's butt when he bent over for a shot (okay, she really _was_ checking it out, but she played it off as pretend because of how flustered he got, letting her gaze linger an extra couple of moments). Of course, once he stood up again, he looked over at her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he said "Like what you see?"

The game was close. Both of them battling it out for the honour of getting to sink the 8-ball. But, it was Owen who came away the champion, his arms raised above his head after his final shot.

"Told ya," he sing-songed with a smirk, as he raised his beer for a large gulp.

"Best three out of five?" she asked hopefully. Damn, she really was hoping she could take some investors to see the raptors. When she'd inquired before about the option she'd been shut down, multiple times.

"Normally, I'd love to," Owen said, as he glanced down at his watch. "But, I've actually got to head out. I've got an early start tomorrow." He picked up his beer again, quickly draining the rest from the glass.

"You're just afraid you'll lose," she grumbled, before she glanced down at her own watch, her eyes widening briefly at just how late it was. She hadn't realized how much time had gone by. She grabbed his cue and hers and placed them back in the rack on the wall.

"Maybe we'll just have to come back here for our date," he said when she returned. "When are you free?"

"Free?" Claire pulled out her phone. "Um…"

"Tell you what," Owen interrupted her. "Let me give you my number and we can sort it out later. You could text me a few options."

"Ok," she nodded, handing her phone over to him, watching as he quickly opened up her message app and typed in his number before sending himself a text.

"There, now we both have each other's numbers," he said as his phone chimed from his pocket, his text coming through.

"I'll look at my calendar tomorrow," Claire promised.

"Perfect. It's a date."

"Right." Claire rolled her eyes, but she followed after him as he started walking through the bar.

"You're not going to stay?" Owen asked, surprised.

"If you get to leave, then I figure I've put in enough time here and can also leave," she admitted, glancing towards Zara and her crowd.

"You should come out to these again," he said as he held the door open and the two walked outside, stopping a few feet away from the entrance. "I know you had fun."

"I… did," she said, still sort of surprised by how the whole evening had gone. "Maybe I will. I'll see what works out. Well, I'm heading that way," she said, pointing to the left.

"And I'm parked around back," Owen replied. "Need a lift?"

"No, thanks," Claire shook her head. "I'll see you later."

"Don't forget to text me about our date," he said, before giving her a short wave as he started to walk away. "Bye."

"Bye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it feels kind of nice to be back and posting. Hopefully some of you are still around and looking for something to read. I've also got a snapshot coming this weekend.
> 
> Don't forget to hit that kudos button, subscribe, and comment. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the infamous date...

**Chapter 2**

_As she stepped back into her shared residence with Sarah, Claire couldn't help but fall back against the closed door, a soft sigh tumbling out of her chest. She felt like she'd been floating on clouds all night long and could still hardly believe that TJ had not only asked her out, but that she'd gone on a date with him. And that he seemed to want to go on another_ one _!_

" _Looks like your date went well," Sarah said with a light cough, and Claire could feel her cheeks flush as she looked up and over at her friend who was sitting on her bed with a textbook open on her lap. "Although, I have to say, I'm kind of surprised you're already home. I thought I might end up with the room to myself tonight." At that, Sarah gave a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows._

_Claire groaned, as her cheeks grew even hotter, her hands rising to cover them. "Stop," she protested. "Besides, this was only a first date. I'm not… I don't…" With a second groan, Claire walked over to her bed, falling face first onto it, burying her face in her pillow._

" _Aw, you know I'm just teasing," Sarah said with a laugh. "But, how'd it go? I want details. Where did he take you? What did you do?"_

" _It was…" Claire paused, unsure how to describe it. And not wanting to sound overly lovesick, even if it_ was _how she felt. "He took me to dinner. And then we went for a walk."_

" _Dinner and a walk? Really?" Sarah said, sounding a little skeptical. "Where'd he take you for a walk?"_

" _He knew about some gardens on campus and we walked through them. I didn't even know they existed."_

" _Huh."_

" _Huh, what?" Claire demanded, looking up._

" _Nothing. I just… I don't know. I guess I expected TJ to be more…"_

" _More what?" Claire sat up as she asked, confused._

" _I'm not really sure how to explain," Sarah said after a short pause. "He just comes across so smooth. I guess I thought he might be…" she trailed off again. "I sort of expected him to make more of a move. Not to be so… nice?"_

_Claire wasn't really sure how to take Sarah's comment, especially the way she said nice with an uncertain tone, like she still wasn't sure it was the correct word. "Did you expect him to be sleazy?"_

" _No, not that," Sarah moved her text book aside, swinging her legs over the side of her bed as she turned to face Claire. "And I'm glad he's not. It just sounds like the date was pretty sweet."_

" _It was," Claire admitted, before a horrified thought came over her. Her eyes widened. "Wait, do you think that's a bad thing?"_

" _No, it's a good thing," Sarah laughed. "A great thing, really. I'm glad you've found a good guy. Are you going to go out again?"_

" _Yeah," Claire said with a short nod, her blush returning. "He already asked me out for Friday."_

" _Nice!" Sarah said, hoping off her bed and moving to sit beside Claire, tossing her arm around Claire's shoulders. "Please tell me he at least kissed you tonight."_

" _Twice," Claire confirmed. "Once in the garden and again when he walked me back here."_

" _Aw," Sarah said with a fake swoon, falling back on Claire's bed, her hand over her heart._

" _Oh stop," Claire replied, grabbing her pillow and tossing it at Sarah. But even as she did so, she couldn't help the smile that played across her lips at the memory._

_She couldn't wait for Friday._

o-o-o

"Shit, shit, shit." Owen squeezed his eyes closed, trying to keep from screaming in frustration. Opening them again, he focused back down into the paddock at the four raptors who were milling about aimlessly, paying no attention to him.

"What's going on?" Barry asked, approaching from the side with a new pail of rats.

"This is taking too long," Owen grumbled, accepting the bucket and attaching it to the railing in front of him. "I just…" he glanced at his watch before his gaze swivelled back into the paddock. "I need to be done. I can't stay late today."

"Why–oh!"

Owen looked over to see that Barry was smirking at him.

"You've got your date with Claire tonight, don't you?" Barry said in an almost sing-song voice.

For a moment Owen debated pretending he didn't, except, he _did_ and he really did need to get out of there. "I do. And I need time to go home beforehand. Can you imagine if I showed up dressed like this?" He gestured to his clothes, currently covered in dirt and grime and, if he was not mistaken, a bit of rat blood too.

"I'd kind of like to see that," Barry admitted with a chuckle. "But, go on, get out of here. I can finish up for today. It won't hurt if we end the training session a bit early. I'll put them through a couple of easy drills and make sure they get dinner."

"Really?" Owen looked at Barry gratefully. "Thanks. I'll owe you one."

"You can add that to the long list of other things you already owe me for," Barry laughed. "But, yeah, go." He made a shooing motion with his hand, gesturing for Owen to hurry off.

"Thanks," Owen repeated, before tossing a final glance down at the raptors. However, they still weren't paying him any attention, so he used the opportunity to escape off the catwalk. He knew if they saw him leaving, he'd never get out of there anytime soon.

But, thankfully they were preoccupied with trying to look disinterested in what was going on above them, and he managed to get to his motorcycle and was soon driving swiftly across the island to the little plot of land he called home.

Getting ready wasn't super complicated — his most pressing need was the shower he'd mentioned to Barry. After that, it was just about grabbing a clean outfit and pulling it on. He didn't actually own a lot of clothes, both because his living space didn't have room for them, and because he never felt the need. He wore pretty much the same few things every day for work. And outside of that, well, he was living on a tropical island. His extended wardrobe mostly consisted of shorts and t-shirts. He did own one suit that he'd brought to the island with him (better to be prepared and all that) but he'd never actually put it on before, as nothing he'd done had ever required him to be that formal.

Thankfully, he wasn't going to need to dust it off for his date tonight either. He and Claire had been sporadically texting back and forth for the past couple of weeks (yes, it had taken that long for them to find a day and time that worked for both). She'd made some suggestions around some of the fancier on-island restaurants at first, telling him that she could easily make a reservation for them, but he'd managed to talk her out of the idea. He'd replied that he had it all under control, that she should just be ready for him to meet her on Main Street at 6:30pm.

And he _was_ prepared.

No, he hadn't made a reservation anywhere, but he didn't feel the need for that. Owen believed that the best first dates were ones where both parties were relaxed, and that over-planning the evening would just counter that. Instead, he thought they'd just see where the evening took them. That they could grab food somewhere, and then maybe play another game of pool or go for a walk or have drinks. He wasn't worried about _what_ they'd do.

In fact, he wasn't actually worried about _any_ part of the date. He'd thought he might be, but the night at the pub and the bit of conversation they'd had since had relaxed him. He felt confident they were on the same page. Besides, it didn't matter to him _what_ they did, he was just looking forward to spending the evening with her.

o-o-o

Smoothing her hands down her sides, Claire gave her reflection on the elevator door a quick once-over, before slowly letting out her breath, and trying to relax her shoulders. She wasn't sure why she was feeling so nervous about the date. After all, she'd had a good time with Owen at the sports bar, and the little bit of texting they'd done since had gone well.

_It was going to be fine_ , Claire told herself. _More than fine, actually. It was going to go great. No, wait,_ Claire back tracked. _Don't set your expectations too high. Fine. Aim for fine or okay. Hopefully good enough that there could and would be a second one._

As the elevator bell rang and the doors slid open in front of her, Claire took a deep breath before stepping off. _Really, how bad could things go?_

It took barely three minutes before she was already regretting having thought that. For having possibly, probably, jinxed their entire evening.

Walking out of the Innovation Centre, Claire let her gaze travel over all the people scattered about, trying to locate Owen. Just as she was taking a second pass over the crowd, wondering if he was late or if maybe she was early (though she was sure she'd time it so she'd be exactly on time), she heard her name.

"Claire!"

She swung her head to the left, finally catching sight of him. As he hopped up the steps towards her, she realized why she hadn't spotted him on her first pass. Claire quickly bit her lip to keep her jaw from falling open.

This was a date, right? She was _sure_ he'd called it a date. But… he was wearing board shorts and a simple grey t-shirt. Did _he_ think it was a date? Maybe he just thought they were going to… hang out as friends? She wished she could pull out her phone and quickly skim back over the conversation they'd had over the past couple of weeks. Had she _imagined_ the date word? Is _that_ why he'd turned down her suggestions of Winston's and Nobu?

"Wow, you look…" Owen said, his voice trailing off and his jaw going slack as he came to a stop in front of her. "You look great," he finally finished. "Beautiful."

"Thanks?" Claire couldn't help but lift her voice at the end, her reply coming out more like a question. She quickly continued, "So, you said you had something planned?"

"Yes, I mean, sort of," Owen replied, one of his hands rising to rub at the back of his neck.

Claire couldn't really tell if he was nervous, or if she was just reading everything wrong. She looked down at her own outfit. She was wearing a soft grey A-line dress that stopped just above her knees. While she was definitely more dressed up than his board shorts, she was grateful that when he'd turned down her suggestions for the fancier restaurants she'd decided on her current dress and not something more cocktail-style as she'd been initially debating.

"If you don't have a plan," Claire started, pulling her phone out of the small clutch she was carrying and opening it up, "I wrote down some–"

"An itinerary? Did you make an itinerary?"

She looked up from her phone to discover that Owen had moved over directly beside her and was staring down at her phone in curiosity.

"Um, no," she stammered, quickly powering it off as she willed her voice to stay even and collected. "I just… I had just jotted down some ideas. I like to be prepared, that's all."

"I told you I'd plan it," Owen replied. There was a flash of something that Claire couldn't quite label that crossed his face as he said that, but it was gone too fast that she almost wondered if she had imagined it.

"And did you? Plan it, I mean?"

"A loose plan," he nodded, with more confidence than she felt. "Dinner, and then depending on how we're feeling, maybe going for a walk, or a game of pool, or…"

"I don't sleep with people on the first date," Claire immediately replied when he trailed off.

"Well, if you count the night we played pool, this is more like our _second_ date," Owen countered, before quickly holding up his hands. "Kidding, kidding. I didn't mean _that_ , anyway. I just meant that I thought we'd figure it out as we go."

"So no plan, then?" she confirmed.

"Dinner. First up is dinner," he said, pointing down the steps towards the rest of Main Street.

As they started forward, for a moment Claire was sure he'd been about to reach out and hold her hand, but then he shoved his hands into his pockets and started asking her what her favourite food was.

o-o-o

By the time she reached the door to her place, Claire was fuming. Was tequila and tacos really all he thought she was worth? What kind of date was that? And she _knew_ it was a date. Not only because she _had_ had a chance to check her phone, but he'd confirmed it himself when he'd joked (at least, she'd _thought_ he was joking) about tonight being their second date.

It wasn't even that the food was bad — it was actually her favourite place to get tacos on the island. But he'd then laughed in her face when she said her diet didn't include tequila and ordered her a shot anyway. And she didn't even want to _think_ about their conversation.

Growling, Claire let herself into her place, tossing her small purse onto the table near the entry and kicking off her shoes. She then beelined straight through her place into her bedroom, falling face first onto her bed, letting out an angry scream into her pillow.

That night at the bar, she had felt so good when she'd been with him. Like he actually _saw_ her, and not just that, but that he'd liked what he saw. They hadn't struggled for conversation, both teasing each other and chatting comfortably. And she'd felt that same level of comfort when they'd been texting, too. But tonight? It was like every second word out of their mouths was misinterpreted by the other. Nothing was taken at face value, always some extra meaning twisted into it. It felt like walking through a minefield where there was no safe ground.

By the time they'd finished their dinner (if you could even call it that), Claire had been more than ready for the whole evening to be over. And, for the first time in her life, she was glad that there _wasn't_ more of a plan for them to follow, as it had made it much easier to suggest parting ways as they had left the restaurant.

Not that he'd looked eager for their evening together to continue, considering how fast he had accepted her suggestion. He didn't even offer to walk her back to her place! Instead, they'd both immediately headed in different directions.

Claire had been so mad she hadn't even headed in the _right_ direction at first, and then had needed to duck into a nearby store as she waited, wanting to make sure he'd cleared out of the area before she walked home.

Lifting one hand and curling it into a fist, Claire punched the mattress a couple of times, before flopping over onto her back. Was she really that undateable? That _unlikable_? The little she'd known about Owen was that he got along with everyone.

Oh, god! Claire's eyes widened and then she brought her hands up to cover her face. Dammit, _Zara._ Zara knew about her date. And they'd had their date in the park, so quite likely _others_ would find out as well (if they hadn't already). She should've known that nothing good could've come from this. Dammit all.

o-o-o

Owen had gotten halfway to the monorail station before he'd remembered that he'd driven his motorcycle and had had to double back. Which had then resulted in him standing awkwardly trying to blend into a souvenir stand when he'd noticed Claire headed in his direction. Thankfully, she seemed too focused on where she was going and hadn't even glanced in his direction once. Her eyes were narrowed and she was frowning, her hands clenched in fists as she'd hurried by.

Which had just reignited his own ire that he'd finally been managing to tamp down.

What the hell had happened tonight? Where was the Claire from the other night at the bar? That definitely was _not_ who had shown up a few hours ago. And whose diet didn't include tequila? Unless you were allergic, that is — but, no, if she'd been allergic surely she'd have said something. And did she forget that _she_ was the one who'd said that tacos were her favourite food?

All he'd done was try to take her someplace she'd like and with a relaxed atmosphere, like they'd had at the bar. He hadn't wanted the date to feel overly formal. He'd heard the rumours about her (he was pretty sure you couldn't avoid them if you worked on Nublar), but she hadn't been anything like them when they'd played pool. He'd thought maybe the reason was because it had been casual, with no big expectations. That was what he'd been trying to recreate tonight.

He probably should've known his "plan" was going to fail when he'd first seen her step outside the Innovation Center in her dress and then seen her eyes widen when she'd caught sight of his own outfit. He'd thought he'd be able to recover from that, but then she'd pulled up her _own_ plan for the evening. While he hadn't been able to read everything on her list (he'd only had a very quick glimpse of it), the fact that she hadn't trusted him to plan their evening had thrown him. Normally he considered himself a pretty quick thinker and fast on his feet, able to roll with the punches and adapt easily. None of those abilities had shown up tonight.

What Owen hated most of all, was how _relieved_ he'd been when she'd suggested they just end their night after dinner. By that point he'd no longer had the energy to try to figure out how he could salvage it and had been just as ready to throw in the towel.

As he finally stepped away from the souvenir stand and continued on his way back to his bike, he couldn't help but still wish things had gone differently. And, even more surprising, he found that he wanted a do-over. A chance to try again. He _knew_ he could do better. And he _knew_ their date could've gone better. They just needed to make sure they came at it with similar expectations.

Although, considering the expression he'd spotted on her face when she'd walked by him, he didn't think that she'd be all that easy to convince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who read, reviewed, or gave kudos on the last chapter. 
> 
> If you're new to reading my stuff, I have a lot of other finished [**clawen fics**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akajb/pseuds/akajb/works). I also have a collection of oneshots called [**Snapshots**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882443/chapters/39649755) that take place in one of my AU universes ([ **Full Circle**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749793/chapters/36626259)) and I posted a [**new one**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882443/chapters/71883891) this past weekend.
> 
> See you all next week. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of this chapter is what ended up expanding this whole story from being a 4-chapter idea to an 8-chapter idea. And all from a random conversation Nadin and I had one night... But it was fun, and gave another "thread" to weave through out.

**Chapter 3**

" _I can't believe I forgot about this assignment," Claire groaned as she banged her head against her desk. "It's due in two hours, there's no way I've got enough time to get it done."_

" _So you're a little late for once, what's the big deal?" Sarah replied from her spot behind her own desk without looking up from her laptop._

_Claire winced. "Then I'll lose 10% right off the top."_

" _Then submit whatever you have done by the deadline."_

" _But it won't be complete," Claire moaned._

" _Well, it's one or the other," Sarah pointed out. "Either take the 10% hit, or take the hit on not having a finished assignment. What one's worse?"_

" _I'm so stupid," Claire just mumbled back, feeling defeated._

" _Complaining about it isn't going to get it finished either," Sarah noted wisely, and Claire lifted her head long enough to shoot a glare at her roommate. "Besides, you have a good excuse. If_ I _was dating TJ Dalton, I also wouldn't be thinking about assignments. You're so lucky. You really need to help me meet some of his friends."_

" _This doesn't feel lucky," Claire replied, but she sat up, pulling her laptop closer to her. Sarah did have a point, she really needed to get started on the assignment._

" _It's_ one _assignment, Claire. Besides, you're acing the class. Missing this assignment will barely affect your grade."_

" _I know, objectively, that you're right," Claire said, as she opened the word document she'd started earlier. "I just—"_

"— _Have never handed in a late assignment before," Sarah finished for her. "I know."_

" _Sorry," Claire sighed apologetically. "I know I can get worked up about this stuff. I'm just not used to letting myself get distracted, and especially over a guy."_

" _A very_ hot _guy. And I think he's rich, right? He's a legacy, didn't you say? And did I mention hot?"_

" _Stop," Claire grabbed an eraser off her desk and threw it at Sarah, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Besides, I don't care about stuff like that."_

_Sarah arched an eyebrow at her. "Being hot?"_

" _Being a legacy or rich," Claire corrected._

" _A bonus, though," Sarah pointed out._

" _Yeah, I guess so," Claire agreed. "Although, it's sort of embarrassing. Did you know that the Dalton Building on campus is actually named after his grandfather?"_

" _Whoa! That must mean he comes from serious money," Sarah said, her eyes wide. "Did I say you were lucky? Because I think maybe we need to go buy a lottery ticket." She pushed back her chair and stood up. "C'mon."_

" _Stop," Claire said again, starting to laugh now at her friend's antics. "I need to get this assignment finished."_

" _Fine," Sarah said begrudgingly, sitting back down. "But as soon as you're finished we're buying one."_

" _Yeah, yeah," Claire said dismissively, before trying to focus once again on the assignment in front of her._

_It wasn't easy, and not because the assignment was hard (it actually wasn't), but because Sarah wasn't the first person to tell Claire that they thought she was lucky for dating TJ. And while, yes, she'd gone on a few dates with TJ now, did that count as dating? They hadn't agreed to call each other boyfriend or girlfriend or anything like that._

_She had meant what she'd said to Sarah — she didn't care that TJ was a legacy or came from a wealthy family. In fact, the more time she was spending with him, the more she wondered if those were actually good things. Sure, it was nice that he had taken her to some real restaurants, ones with cloth napkins and fancy menus, not the normal college hangouts, but people seemed to know TJ everywhere they went and Claire didn't really like being the center of attention normally. At least, not when it came to her personal life (she would happily give presentations for school work). And she found she liked it even less when she felt like she was more of a prop than a real person when she was with him._

_She was also finding that TJ could be really arrogant. He would puff up in pride when people recognized him. He'd talk assertively and almost dismissively to the servers in the restaurants (although, she did notice that he always gave large tips). While part of her was sort of annoyed by his attitude, she also knew that being arrogant was often just an expression of confidence. And TJ was definitely confident. And driven. That was the part that had actually surprised her the most in their interactions so far — that he was a lot smarter than she'd expected him to be, and already had a clear career path laid out ahead of him. She envied him for knowing exactly what he wanted to do with his life and how he was going to get there._

_Claire had thought_ she _had her life planned out, but having heard TJ detail his plans, she now felt like she was scrambling to catch up. He already had an internship lined up for the following summer! She hadn't realized she'd needed to get on those so quickly. She was hoping that she wasn't going to end up being too late._

_Of course, if she didn't get this assignment done and she ended up failing her classes, not having a plan was going to be the least of her worries._

o-o-o

Her gaze focused on her phone, Claire blindly pushed at the lab door, surprised when it easily opened in front of her. Barely a second later she let out a startled "oomph" as she collided with someone who was leaving the lab.

She hated that she knew exactly who it was before she even looked up, but she immediately recognized him from the whiff of his aftershave. Owen. Dammit.

Claire was starting to think that life was mocking her. Before their date, she could count the number of times she'd crossed paths with Owen on one hand, but somehow in the few weeks since that night she seemed to run into him what felt like every other day. After their fourth encounter, she'd actually started wondering if Owen was somehow arranging these on purpose, except they generally never said anything to each other, hurrying to get out of the other's way. If he was wanting these to happen (which she couldn't understand _why_ he would be), wouldn't he actually want to talk to her? Instead, he always looked just as surprised and uncomfortable as she felt, and she didn't think that he was a good enough actor to feign that.

"Sorry," Claire apologized, stepping back to give Owen space to exit the lab.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Owen asked as he continued to stand in front of her and Claire felt her jaw drop as she watched his lips curve into a lopsided smile. "Seems like you can't get enough of me."

"Are you–" she sputtered, suddenly at a loss for words, not sure whether she should feel shocked or insulted at the implication. "What? No! Why would I be doing that?"

"Normally I never see you, and now every time I have to make a trip into the main park somehow you're always _right there_ ," he explained, as his eyes narrowed skeptically. "You have my number, you know. You could always just call me if you wanted to see me."

"I don't _want_ to see you," Claire immediately shot back. She was surprised when she saw what almost looked like a flicker of hurt pass over him, but it happened so quickly she was sure she'd imagined it.

"Because if you want a second date…" Owen started, letting the unfinished question hang in the air between them, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"I don't want a second date," she hissed as she grabbed his arm, pulling him out into the hall and to the side, letting the lab door finally swing shut behind them. "Why would you bring that up _here_?"

"What's wrong with here?" he asked, his gaze darting around the area before landing back on her.

"This is my _work_."

"Mine, too," he replied. "So? It's not like people don't know that we went on a date."

She didn't have an immediate response to that and she knew he was right. Neither of them had done anything to conceal the fact that they had gone on one, and she knew that others knew, as well. _Lowery_ had made a comment about it when she'd visited the control room the day after the date.

"Still, I don't like people knowing about my personal life," she dropped her voice even lower.

Owen blinked at her. "What personal life?"

Claire's eyes grew wide. Who was Owen to comment on her personal life? What did he really know about her after _one_ date?

"We went on _one_ date," he continued, not seeming to catch on to her reaction. "There's nothing for people to know about us. Besides, if you really don't want people talking, pulling me aside like this was _not_ the right move."

He tilted his head meaningfully to the left, and Claire looked in that direction just in time to see a couple of lab workers duck around a corner. Ugh, this was exactly what she didn't want.

"I need to get back to work," she said, stepping back from him.

"There's an attraction between us," he said as she started to walk away. "You can deny it all you want, but it's there."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Claire protested. She gave him a quick once-over and then added, "I'd say you are as dumb as a rock, but at least a rock can hold open a door."

With that, she re-opened the lab door and quickly walked through. She made it a point to keep her gaze trained straight ahead as she made her way through the lab, not wanting to see if Owen was still there or how he'd reacted to her words.

While she really _hadn't_ been trying to cross paths with him, now she was wondering what she could do to prevent that from happening in the future. Could she figure out his schedule? Although, if they suddenly _stopped_ seeing each other, would he think that just confirmed he was right and she had changed her plans because he'd called her out on it?

Ah! Claire gave her head a quick shake, trying to push away any thoughts about Owen as she approached Henry's office. She needed to focus on why she was down there in the first place.

o-o-o

Owen saw Claire the moment she stepped into the room. He felt like he was attuned to her presence lately; somehow he always just seemed to _know_ when she was around before he even spotted her. Tonight, though, he hadn't been expecting her to show up. He knew she didn't really like these sort of events and, unlike the last one she'd attended, this one was taking place in a common lounge in one of the employee housing buildings, not out at the sports bar or another restaurant.

While he'd continued to see her around the park over the past few weeks, he hadn't talked with her since that one time she'd literally ran into him at the lab. He was pretty sure that she was actively trying to avoid him now, but he didn't really blame her (and he was sort of doing the same, changing his routine to try to make sure their paths didn't come any closer than absolutely necessary). He was still sort of smarting over what she'd said to him last time and was pretty sure that another random encounter wouldn't be in his best interest to fix things.

Still, their best interaction had been at the last employee gathering she'd attended, the one where they'd played pool. Maybe her appearance tonight could end up being a good thing and he could get another chance to talk to her. A chance where there were no expectations and no snide remarks. And, hopefully, a chance to sort of reset things.

However, he wasn't really sure the best way to approach her. Let her get settled in? Or wait and hope she had a couple of drinks first? Of course, he knew that could just as likely backfire as there was no guarantee that she'd stick around even that long. She'd seemed really surprised that night in the bar how late it had gotten while they were playing pool.

In the end, Owen decided that he'd try to keep a discrete eye on her and that if she headed for the door, he'd go and talk to her, but if she didn't, well, he'd wait her out for a bit. He also wasn't convinced that him approaching her wouldn't just cause her to go fleeing out the door.

As the evening wore on, he was surprised that not only had she not left yet, but that she seemed to be actually having a good time, chatting with various other employees. The downside of it all, was that he was pretty sure she knew that he was there, because while they hadn't made eye contact or anything, she'd somehow managed to always stay on the opposite side of the room from him, even when he got up to get himself another drink. And he still hadn't mustered up the courage to actually directly approach her.

But, in the meantime, while he worked on that, he got up to use the bathroom and grab another drink. Returning back to the couch he'd been sitting on, Owen wasn't all that surprised when the group he'd been hanging out with had changed slightly (it had been constantly shifting all evening as people circulated about the room), but he _was_ surprised when he saw that Zara and Claire had now joined it. He half expected Claire to get up the moment he sat down again, but she didn't. She was, though, sitting almost directly opposite him, which made it easy for him to watch her discreetly. Claire, on the other hand, he noticed, seemed to somehow be able to look right past him as though she couldn't see him, having perfected the art of pretending he was not there at all.

"So, what about you Owen? What's your 'number'?" Gina, one of the behaviourists who worked with the Gentle Giants, asked.

"My what?" Owen replied, confused, his brows pulling together momentarily. He'd missed whatever conversation topic they'd switched to when he'd got up.

"Your number," Gina repeated. "You know, how many people you've slept with."

Owen had, unfortunately, just taken a gulp of his new beer when she said that, and he immediately started coughing, covering his mouth with his sleeve so he didn't accidentally spray anyone. "You want to know _that?_ "

"We've all been sharing ours," Nick, an ACU member, chimed in.

Owen couldn't help but immediately look over at Claire. Had _she_ shared? What was hers?

"Mine's 48," Nick boasted, "Unlike Lowery who's only a two."

"Hey, it's about quality, not quantity," Lowery protested defensively. "Not everyone is just trying to play the field."

A murmur of either agreement or protests rose all around them.

"So?" Gina asked again. "What's your number, Owen? I think everyone who's confessed so far is somewhere between Lowery and Nick. Where do you fall?"

"Oh, um," Owen quickly raised his beer, purposefully taking another gulp as he tried to buy himself time. How could he get out of saying what his was?

"No way, you've lost count?" Nick said while Owen was still swallowing.

"What?" Owen's eyes went wide as he shot a quick glance towards Claire who was actually looking directly at him for once.

"Is that why you aren't saying? You don't know?" Nick pressed on. "It must be a lot, then."

"I didn't say that," Owen argued.

Although, it was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit. He was fairly sure about the general number, just not the exact count. But, either way, he didn't want to say it. Especially not with Claire staring at him. He was sure there was no way that Claire had ever lost track of something like that. And he was also quite sure that him admitting he didn't know wasn't going to be the best way to warm her up to him again, either.

It wasn't that he'd lost track on purpose. It was more that for a period of time he'd just purposefully never _kept_ track in the first place. He'd had a number of years when he was in the Navy that he wasn't particularly proud of, in hindsight. Years when he'd sort of lost himself and got caught up in the game of it all.

"You were in the Navy, right?" Alec, Zara's boyfriend, asked and Owen nodded slowly. "I have some friends who went that route. From some of the stories they've told, things can get pretty crazy there."

"Maybe we've got it all wrong, and the real reason he doesn't want to say is because his number is really low," Nick suggested. Owen was pretty sure that Nick was actually kind of hoping that was the case, considering how proud he seemed to be of his own count and being the 'highest.' "Is that the problem, Owen? Don't want to admit you're a lowly two like Lowery?"

"Hey!" Lowery piped in.

"More I don't kiss and tell," Owen countered.

However, his response was mostly lost, as almost immediately Gina was calling Nick out. "Oh, there's no _way_ his number is that low, Nick. You've got eyes, don't you? Just _look_ at him. You just don't want Owen's number to crush yours."

"Being good-looking doesn't mean you're _good_ ," Nick replied.

"Neither does a high number," Zara pointed out, earning some whoops. "Isn't that more a sign that you couldn't get the same person to sleep with you twice?"

"Good point," Gina said with a laugh, reaching over to high five Zara.

"Seriously, though," Zara said, shifting closer to Alec, who she was sitting beside, her hand resting on his knee. "It's more about finding the right person, isn't it? Not about how many people that takes?"

Owen just nodded, letting others speak, happy to have the attention diverted off of him. When he was younger, he had definitely approached it more the way Nick was implying, where the higher the number, the better it made you. But it had gotten old after a while, everything just blending together, nothing feeling special. And by the time he'd left the Navy, Owen had been feeling pretty disillusioned about life and people in particular. It was one of the reasons he'd made having his own housing away from everyone else a condition of him coming to Jurassic World. He'd wanted and needed a break from having to constantly be around others. A place he could escape to that was quiet. And a job that would let him spend more time with animals than with people.

It wasn't that he didn't like people (he just wasn't fond of a lot of them) and he _did_ want to date again, but he no longer wanted it to be with just anyone. In fact, there'd only been a couple of women since he'd come to Nublar who had even caught his eye. And the one he was really interested in was currently sitting across from him, looking at him contemplatively. Owen was struggling to read her expression. He couldn't tell if she was disgusted by the whole conversation or intrigued. He wasn't sure what he wanted her to be, as he wasn't sure what reaction would actually bode well for him.

o-o-o

Claire had been tempted to turn around and walk out of the party only a moment after she'd initially stepped through the door. That was how long it had taken her to spot Owen sitting on a couch with a group of others. After not having seen him for a few weeks, she had caved to Zara's demands that she show up to another event (she had tried to remind Zara that going to the bar was supposed to mean that Zara would never ask her again, but Zara had said since Claire had spent the entire evening away from the group it didn't count).

Since she was pretty sure that they were _both_ actively avoiding each other now, Claire really hadn't expected Owen to be there tonight. Of course, she probably should've, since it was she who rarely (never) attended these, and not Owen. And she really would've left, except she was pretty sure that Zara would use that as a reason to force her to attend another get-together, and she'd probably just have to deal with Owen at a future date. Might as well just get it over with tonight. Also, there were a fair number of people in the room, so she could probably avoid having to actually interact with him.

Her avoidance plans worked for a while, as she stuck to the outer edges of the room, away from where Owen continued to hang out on the couch. While she wasn't actively watching him, she always seemed to just _know_ when he was getting up, and was able to make sure she stayed away from whatever direction he headed (which wasn't hard, as the couple of times she'd seen him get up, he'd just gone to get another drink).

She probably would've been able to go the whole night without having to cross paths with him, but Zara got under her defenses. She hadn't even realized that Zara had been directing her across the floor until suddenly she was standing by a chair as Zara plopped down onto a loveseat next to Alec, part of the circle Owen was in. Except Owen wasn't there, she noted with relief, when she glanced over towards where he had been sitting only to find his spot empty. A quick glance around the room and she couldn't see him anywhere. Huh, maybe that meant he'd left.

Claire carefully sat down in the chair, her gaze still darting about the room as if she expected Owen to reappear, but he didn't. And a minute later she was distracted from her search as Zara leaned over and whispered a question to her, which caused her eyes to widen as she looked around the group she was sitting with. They were discussing _what_ now?

"Forty-eight," one of the men in the group boasted, causing Claire's gaze to jump over to him, but she didn't recognize him.

"Really, Nick?" Alec asked.

"Hey, what can I say, I like the ladies, and they like me," Nick replied, a cheesy grin on his face.

Claire suppressed an eyeroll at that, although she would admit that Nick was decent looking. Not her type, and also looked to be a few years younger than her, but she could get that woman would be attracted to him. Physically, anyway. Considering all she knew about him now was his number of conquests, she wasn't so sure about any attraction deeper than that.

"What about you, Alec?" Nick asked. "What's your number?"

"Um, seven... no, wait, eight," Alec replied. "Yeah, eight."

"Eight for me too," Zara volunteered.

Claire felt ready to bolt from her seat. She didn't want any part of this discussion. Do people really want to know this sort of information about their coworkers? She didn't. However, before everyone could turn and look at her, she was saved when a woman across the circle spoke up.

"I think I'm at eleven…"

"Think?" Lowery asked. "You don't know?"

"Hey, it's easier to remember when your number is only two," the woman teased Lowery back. "I'm pretty sure, but, I had some wild times during college, so…" Before Lowery (or anyone) could say anything to that, the woman had turned her attention. "So, what about you, Owen? What's your 'number'?"

Claire's gaze snapped across the circle. She hadn't realized that Owen had reappeared and that he'd rejoined the group. It must have been recent, as he seemed confused by the question and almost immediately started coughing after the woman explained it.

"We've all been sharing ours," Nick said when Owen didn't answer the question. "Mine's 48, unlike Lowery, who's only a two."

Claire hadn't been able to keep her eyes off Owen, wondering how he was going to react, and also more curious than she wanted to admit as to what his answer was going to be. But she immediately looked down at the ground when he looked over at her. Why was he looking at _her_? She continued to stare at her shoes as Lowery tried to defend himself and then the woman once again pressed Owen for his number. However, she couldn't help but look at Owen when there was silence and then Nick said, "No way, you've lost count?"

"What?" Owen exclaimed.

This time, when Owen looked her way Claire wasn't able to look away first and instead she met his gaze head on.

"Is that why you aren't saying? You don't know?" Nick continued. "It must be a lot, then."

"I didn't say that," Owen immediately protested, although Claire felt like he was almost talking to her, and not Nick, considering his gaze was still locked with hers.

However, then Alec spoke up, and Owen's attention was redirected. When he finally looked away, Claire realized that she had apparently been holding her breath, and she let it out slowly. She couldn't decide if she wanted to know his number or not. Or how she should feel about the fact that he seemed to be focused on her during the conversation. She was curious, yes, but it also felt like one of those "tit for tat" things, and she definitely didn't want to have to contribute.

Her ears were still buzzing slightly, and she had missed Alec's question and most of Nick's response, only tuning back in as he asked "Is that the problem, Owen? Don't want to admit you're a lowly two like Lowery?"

"More I don't kiss and tell," Owen countered.

Claire had continued to watch Owen through all of this, and while she hadn't heard everything, she was pretty sure she knew what they were saying. However, she was finding it hard to read Owen's expression. It was not that she thought he was very public or a show-off who would want to boast about his number like Nick, but she was surprised by how private he was being about it, and she was pretty sure that it _wasn't_ because his number was "shamefully" low.

When the woman then called Nick out on his comment, saying he was worried about not being the "highest", Claire found herself mentally nodding in agreement. Only to have to then hide a snort at Nick's response about how being good-looking doesn't equal being _good_.

"Neither does a high number," Zara pointed out. "Isn't that more a sign that you couldn't get the same person to sleep with you twice?"

Claire found herself laughing and nodding along with Zara. There always seemed to be an assumption that people who sleep around must be not only charming but good in bed. But didn't it only prove they were only good at convincing people to sleep with them once?

"Seriously, though," Zara continued and Claire looked over to see that Zara was sitting even closer to Alec than she had been earlier. "It's more about finding the right person, isn't it? Not about how many people that takes?"

At that, Claire felt her smile slip away. It wasn't that she disagreed with Zara's point. In fact, she completely agreed with her. But, it was tough seeing her friend so happy with Alec, while knowing that she was alone. And that her last date had been the huge disaster of one with Owen. With her options for dating on the island so slim, and with the complications of employee relationships, Claire had always been so hesitant with whom she was even willing to attempt a single date. Owen asking her out had caught her off guard, but it had been a welcome break — he was one of the few people on the island who _didn't_ actually work within her chain of command. With that having fallen apart, she felt like she was back to having almost no options.

As the conversation continued to carry on, people talking about the benefits of high vs low numbers, and what that meant about the actual amount (or _quality_ ) of experience, Claire just tuned them out. While she was thankful that she'd never been put on the spot, and no one seemed interested in specific numbers anymore, she still sort of wished that Owen had been forced to reveal his. She hated that she was pretty sure that Nick was right, that Owen's number was probably high, and quite possibly higher than Nick's.

She knew it didn't matter. That whatever his number was, it didn't specifically mean anything. Everyone has a past, and all that. And who someone was 5, 10 or 15 years ago, didn't matter — it didn't mean that was who they were today. She was a great example herself. The person she was back when she'd been happy to date TJ was not the person she was today. Present day Claire would never have said yes, all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I can't take credit for the line _"I'd say you are as dumb as a rock, but at least a rock can hold open a door."_ I saw it on Instagram or Tumblr or Twitter one day and loved it and immediately wanted Claire to use it sometime against Owen. :)
> 
> Anyway, next chapter things get a lot more real, and you'll learn more about what happened with TJ. 
> 
> If you're enjoying this, please take a moment to let me know by giving kudos and leaving a comment. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Rushing down the hall, Claire mentally berated Lowery for distracting her in the control room. If he hadn't gotten her riled up she would've been able to keep better track of the time. Instead, she was now almost 10 minutes late to her next meeting. Generally, she was pretty good at being punctual, and even when she wasn't, she was usually the highest ranking person in the meeting, so no one was going to complain when she slipped in a couple of minutes late.

However, today she was meeting with a new group of Investors from Dalton Industries. She already felt unprepared for this meeting, as it had been thrown in her lap last minute. Normally Claire liked to have done a deep dive into the company before she met with them, wanting to have a good idea of what areas they were already invested in and what sort of risk tolerance they had. Instead, this meeting had come about because apparently Simon had hit it off with the owner or someone high up in the company and suggested they go out to the island and meet with her. She'd ended up with barely two days' notice. While she'd had Zara pull together some data for her, Claire hadn't had a chance to read it, because the previous evening there'd been a guest incident out at the Petting Zoo and Claire had spent hours dealing with that instead.

All of that was just to say that she was not only running late, but she felt like she was going into this meeting blind, which made her feel like she was also two steps behind.

As she approached the door to the conference room, she came to a stop, taking a moment to catch her breath and straighten out her clothing, her hands smoothing over her hair. No good rushing in looking like a wreck as well. Hopefully, she could salvage part of her first impression. Then, with a bright smile on her face, she confidently stepped forward and pulled open the door and entered the conference room.

"Hi, I'm Claire Dearing, the Operations Manager here at–" Claire cut off as she finally took in the occupants of the room. There were four men sitting around the table, and she swept her gaze over all of them quickly, only to double back to the first one to her left. Was that… _TJ_? No, it couldn't be except — _Dalton Industries._ Dammit, how had she not made that connection before.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure as her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Pulling her gaze away from TJ, she focused on the other three and forced herself to finish her greeting, her smile now feeling more like a grimace. "At Jurassic World. I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up dealing with some other business."

"Not a problem, Claire. We know this meeting got sprung on you last minute. I'm Thomas Dalton," one of the men in the middle stated. He was an older man, probably in his mid 60s, Claire guessed. She assumed he was the spokesperson of the group, since he was the first one to introduce himself. She also assumed he was TJ's dad. "I've brought along a few of my executives. On my left here is Tom, and on my right we've got Rick and Mike."

Claire quickly stepped towards the table, reaching across to shake Thomas' hand first, before doing the same with the other three. She couldn't tell if TJ (or _Tom_ as he was apparently going by now) recognized her, but she didn't want to say anything first. If she was lucky, he _hadn't_ and she could just pretend that this was the first time she'd ever met any of them.

After the introductions were made, Claire sat down across from the others at the table. Normally, she had a pretty set spiel she gave new investor groups who came through, but since she knew that Thomas had talked with Simon, she started by instead asking them what they already knew about the park, not wanting to potentially just give them a duplicate run-down. Thomas was eager to share what he knew, and then top it up with information from his own research into the park.

And before Claire knew it, she found that she was able to completely forget that TJ was even in the same room as her. Thomas had a commanding presence, but he was also very easy-going and she could see why he and Simon had hit it off. Because he already seemed to know a lot about the park, Claire focused instead of just having more of a Q and A with the group, letting their questions drive the conversation.

"Is there any chance you've got time to give us a bit of a tour?" Thomas asked as the meeting started to wrap up.

Claire had been trying to indiscreetly eye the clock on the wall, as she was hoping to get back on schedule and get away from TJ. Most of the conversation had been between her and Thomas, Rick and Mike, but she had felt like she could feel TJ's gaze burning into her the whole time. "My day's pretty packed," she admitted. "But, let me see what I've got going on and if there's anything I can move around."

She pulled out her phone, quickly opening up her calendar and scanning down the remaining meetings and tasks that were filling out her day. Really, she was hoping she could come up with a good excuse as to why she couldn't fit them in. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend more time around TJ, even if the other three had been perfectly nice. However, she also knew that taking them on a tour, or at least showing them something "behind the scenes" was an important part of her job. Just as she was about to tell them that she couldn't, one slot caught her eye. "Hm, I can't give you a tour, but if you want to go explore for a bit and then meet me back here in about an hour and a half, I could take you out for a sneak preview of our newest coming attraction."

"New attraction, like a new… dinosaur?" Mike perked up, leaning forward eagerly.

"New attraction like a possible investment opportunity," Claire replied with a grin, before conceding, "And yes, this one happens to be a dinosaur."

"Should we meet you back here in this room?" Thomas asked. "Or is there somewhere better?"

"How about the front steps of the Innovation Center?" Claire suggested. "That's the building shaped like a pyramid."

"We'll be there," Thomas nodded. "Thanks so much for fitting us in today. You've been a wealth of information."

"My pleasure," Claire said. "Unfortunately, I do need to run now, as I've got a few more things I have to get done. But I'll see you all in an hour and a half."

As Claire stood up, so did the four men, and she moved over to the door, holding it open as the other four exited in front of her. TJ was the last one in line, and as he passed by her, he paused just long enough to give her a quick once over and say, with a sly grin: "It's been a while, hasn't it, Claire? Any chance you've changed your mind about tequila?"

o-o-o

Standing in the observation room, Owen stared out into the Indominus rex's paddock. He couldn't see the dinosaur, but he wasn't specifically looking for her as he was more focused on the structure of the paddock. That said, he was still hoping he'd get a glimpse.

Paddock 11 had been a significant source of gossip on the island for months now, as there were few people who actually knew what was happening out there and all had been sworn to secrecy. With a lack of real information, and with the base assumption that everyone agreed on — that the park must've bred a new dinosaur — the speculation had resulted in wilder and wilder rumours being spread around.

Owen had been shocked (and secretly pleased) when he'd received a call that morning from Zara saying that Mr. Masrani and Ms. Dearing were hoping that he could take a look at the security at Paddock 11. He wasn't at all surprised that the call had come from Zara and not Claire — after the discussion topic at the party the other night, he had never gotten a chance to talk to her. He'd meant to, he really had. But Barry had shown up and in the minute Owen was distracted, Claire had slipped out. While he couldn't say for sure that she'd timed that on purpose, he also wouldn't be surprised to find out that she had.

Anyway, getting the excuse to go check out what mysterious thing was happening at the paddock (and getting to hear the name of the new dinosaur — which Owen still needed to look up, because he couldn't recall hearing it before) had made his day. Really, they could've asked him to go muck out the paddock and Owen would've jumped at the chance, his curiosity so piqued. Being wanted because of his insight? Well, that just made it even better.

He'd done a cursory walk around the perimeter of the paddock when he'd initially arrived before heading up the stairs and into the observation booth. Now he was just waiting for Claire to show up. Zara had told him that Claire would fill him in on the exact details of the request. Owen had been a bit surprised by that, having expected Zara would just tell him herself, although he supposed that Claire would never let anything like any personal history get in the way of her doing her job.

He wasn't really sure what to expect when she finally showed up and he didn't really want to think about it too much, so he was distracting himself by trying to focus on what he could learn about the paddock in the meantime.

Owen was standing at the end of the observation area trying to figure out what kind of dinosaur would've been able to make the scratch marks he could see on the paddock wall. While he'd seen scratch marks made by some of the other species (including his own raptors), these ones appeared especially deep and a lot higher up than he'd expected, making him wonder just how big the dinosaur was.

He turned around when the door to the observation room opened behind him followed by the sound of multiple footsteps, only to be disappointed to discover that Claire was not alone. Instead, she was accompanied by four men in business suits. She didn't seem to notice him at first, her attention focused on the men she'd arrived with, and Owen used the opportunity to look her over as he walked towards them. Similarly to the men, she was also dressed up, her outfit perfectly pressed with not a wrinkle in sight and her hair and makeup flawless. Owen couldn't help but glance down at his own clothes, which were still dusty and grimey from his morning at the raptor paddock, wishing he'd thought of stopping at home first. However, he'd come directly from the raptors and needed to head right back there if he didn't want this side task to throw off his whole day.

"Uh, Mr. Grady, what a… surprise. What are you doing here?" Claire asked when she finally caught sight of him, almost stumbling back a step. One of the men reached out to her, grasping her arm to help her keep her balance. Owen was surprised when she almost yanked her arm out of the man's hold the moment she was stable, as she turned her attention to him.

"Owen," he corrected her, not sure why she was calling him that. "Zara called and told me you and Mr. Masrani wanted me to come out and take a look at the—"

She cut him off before he could finish. "Oh, I didn't realize she was going to contact you today. Or that you'd have time in your schedule so soon. Are you about done?" Claire glanced between him and the door behind her meaningfully.

Owen wasn't sure if she meant that as a jab, that his schedule was less full or important compared to hers. But even if he _had_ been done, he knew in that moment that he would have never admitted it. He would've purposefully stayed just because of what she said. But, he really wasn't. He still needed the information that Claire was supposed to supply.

"No, I've been waiting for you, actually," he told her, not even bothering to hide his glee when he could tell she was caught off-guard. "Zara didn't tell me much, she said you'd fill me in when you got here."

"Oh," Claire replied, glancing between Owen and the men who were watching the exchange. "Um, sure. Let me just… Give me two minutes."

Owen nodded, hanging back. He wasn't sure what to think as he watched the same man from earlier move to put his hand on Claire's back, only for her to step away from him. But before he could think too much about it, he was distracted as he caught snippets of their conversation and the words ' _hybrid'_ and ' _based on the T. rex genome.'_

He watched as Claire peered out of the windows into the paddock, but she, like him, seemed unable to spot the dinosaur. She made a comment about giving it a snack, before she walked away from the group to a guard who was sitting off on one side, asking him to send out some food.

Owen was a little surprised when instead of returning to the men, she crossed the room towards him instead.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed as she approached.

"I told you," he said, dropping his voice as well. "Zara asked me to come out. She said that you and Mr. Masrani wanted me to look into the security at the paddock. To make suggestions about any improvements."

"And?" Claire asked, her hands on her hips as she tapped a foot impatiently against the ground.

Owen blinked at her. "And what?"

"What are your recommendations?"

"I don't know yet," Owen said. "I haven't been here long and I haven't even seen this dinosaur yet."

"Why do you need to see it?"

"Because a suggestion that makes sense to keep something like the compys caged wouldn't make sense for the raptors," he replied, trying not to groan. He _knew_ she wasn't stupid. Surely she should know this. "Zara said you'd fill me in. Let me know about this Indominus. What kind of dinosaur is it? I don't think I've heard of it before. Did you just call it a hybrid?"

A sudden chorus of "oohs" and "ahhs" and "oh, wow" interrupted them, and they both turned to see the group of men had moved even closer to the window.

"Sounds like she's made her appearance," Claire said tightly. "You should get a look before she hides away again."

"Not a fan of visitors?" he asked as they walked over to one of the viewing windows.

"More like not a fan of people," she replied, her voice low and Owen looked over at Claire in surprise. She bit her lip as she stared out the window for a long moment, before turning to him. "We've had some… issues with her. It's why Simon wanted you to take a look. He thought your experience with the raptors might be helpful."

Owen was about to reply to that, but he finally caught sight of the dinosaur in question. It was huge, bigger than the T. rex if he had to guess, and greyish-white in colour. While its hindlegs were definitely stronger than its "arms," similarly to the raptors and the T. rex, there wasn't the same level of difference between them. Owen often felt like the T. rex's arms weren't particularly useful, being so short. This dinosaur seemed to use hers for extra balance, sometimes relying on them almost as additional legs. When she reached her food, she stood up. He watched in disbelief as the dinosaur grabbed the hanging carcass, essentially plucking it off the line, before raising it to her mouth to eat.

Claire bumping into his side pulled Owen's attention away from the window and the somewhat gruesome display as the Indominus ate (he didn't find it all that bad, not after years of watching his own girls tear into their meals and track down and kill pigs). However, he was pretty sure Claire wasn't clumsy — at least, it didn't seem likely, considering she seemed to manage to get around the whole park while wearing heels — and when he looked over to see what had happened, he noticed that the man who had reached for her earlier had joined the two.

"Claire, did you say there are two of these?" the man asked, edging even closer towards her.

Owen took a step to the side, opening up more room for Claire in case she wanted to move farther away from the man. When she did, Owen shifted again, this time stepping forward slightly, not quite putting himself between the two, but definitely making sure his presence was noticed. The other man looked at him briefly, giving him a quick up and down before a look of disgust passed over his face and he returned his attention to Claire.

"Um, yeah, I did," Claire confirmed. "But _were,_ not are. We always incubate more eggs in order to increase our chances that we end up with at least one viable asset, TJ."

"Tom," the man corrected her smoothly. "I go by Tom now."

"Sorry," she apologized. "Tom."

Owen watched the exchange, his curiosity ratcheting up higher and higher. Did Claire know this guy? And if so, why did she seem to always be trying to get away from him? Or was he just reading too much into what he was seeing?

"So the other one just… wasn't born? Or was stillborn?" Tom asked.

"They hatch," Owen couldn't help but speak up. "Dinosaurs lay eggs and eggs hatch."

"So?" Tom looked over at him, giving him another quick once over, his disgust unmasked.

"You–" Owen started to respond, but stopped when he felt Claire's hand on his arm.

"Only the one that you can see survived," Claire said smoothly. "As this was our first attempt at creating this species, it's been quite successful. I'm sure our next attempt will go even better."

"The other guys had some more questions, if you have a moment," Tom said, pointing behind him towards the other men.

"Sure," Claire replied, before she turned back to Owen. "Today's really not the best day for this. Can I send you an email later with the details? Or, actually, why don't you just send me one with any questions you have."

"Well–" Owen started to respond, but Tom had already stepped away, heading back towards the group and Claire was following. Owen reached out, lightly grabbing Claire's arm, getting her attention.

"What?" she demanded, spinning around, and he quickly let go, raising his hands in a "no offense" gesture.

"Sorry, I just… are you okay?" he asked, his gaze jumping between her and Tom.

Claire frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You just seem, well, jumpier or edgier than normal," Owen said.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Just got a busy day and some extra stuff was thrown on it last minute."

"You sure?" he asked again, not sure he believed her. "You seem off."

"You don't know me well enough to be a judge of that," Claire shot back. Before Owen could say anything else, she spun on her heel, hurrying after Tom.

Annoyed, Owen turned his attention back to the window, just in time to see the Indominus turn and head back into the jungle contained within her paddock. He found himself getting caught up in watching her gait. For such a large animal, she moved with ease and a sort of grace he wasn't expecting. More so than what he saw with the T. rex. He mused that it was maybe a result of the different limb structure, providing her with a different center of gravity, one that was much lower down, resulting in less side-to-side swinging of her torso.

When she walked into the jungle he lost sight of her almost immediately. Owen moved closer to the window, blinking rapidly. How had something so big disappeared so quickly? However, no matter how much he scanned over the jungle, he couldn't find her again.

Giving up, he stepped back, looking from side to side as he debated what to do next. And what questions he had for Claire. But, she was still busy with the other men and he decided that he didn't want to distract her. Instead, he pulled out his phone, choosing to take a few pictures of the paddock to use for reference when he wrote up his thoughts later, specifically the scratch marks on the paddock wall.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but overhear the conversation, as the group's volume rose as they walked across the room to the exit.

"So, Claire, are you able to have dinner at Nobu tonight?" He heard Tom ask.

When Owen didn't hear a response, he turned, trying to figure out if she'd agreed, but they were walking out the door and he couldn't see her face. However, he did catch a glimpse of Tom's face, as the man was looking back at him with a bit of a smirk on his face, his hand reaching possessively for Claire as he followed her out the door.

Owen had never been to Nobu, as it was one of the priciest restaurants on the island and he'd never been particularly pretentious about his food. But, maybe tonight would be a good night to check it out.

o-o-o

_It wasn't that Claire was against underage drinking — she couldn't be without being a hypocrite — but it had never been an activity that had held much interest for her. She didn't mind the taste of beer or even wine, and some of the more fruity cocktails were really good. What she didn't like was feeling like she was losing control when she started to get tipsy, or the way a lot of people behaved when drunk. She at least had some control over how much she drank, but she couldn't do much about anyone else, except choose to not be in the same place._

_However, dating TJ apparently meant going to a lot of parties and gatherings where people drank. She'd tried to bring it up to him, to suggest that maybe he just go alone and she'd see him another night, but he always managed to convince her to go with him. He'd tell her it wouldn't be fun without her, or that he'd miss her, and even though she felt pathetic that those comments made her feel good and that she also felt stupid when she caved, she still did, every time._

_TJ, she'd learned, liked to drink. But he was pretty good at staying within his limit. Claire had yet to (thankfully) ever see him throw up or pass out. And he always seemed aware of her and her own comfort level. Which was probably also why she caved when he'd ask. He'd never pressured her to drink more, or made fun of her for only having one or two._

_But, for some reason, tonight wasn't going that way. The party had started off pretty normal, they showed up and found drinks and caught up with various friends as more people arrived and drifted in and out of the rooms of the house._

_It wasn't until a couple of hours later that Claire realized she hadn't seen him in a bit. It was starting to get late, and she'd told him earlier that she couldn't stay too late. She had a big assignment that she wanted (and needed) to get started on that weekend. She looked around the room, but he wasn't there. When he hadn't reappeared after about twenty minutes, Claire decided to go looking for him. She wandered about the house, eventually locating him outside on the back deck. He was gathered with a bunch of guys, all of them drunk to a varying degree._

" _Claire!" TJ exclaimed when he saw her. "Come join us. Tequila?" He held up the small plastic shot glass he was holding, the liquid inside sloshing over the rim._

" _Um, no thanks," she replied, but she walked over to stand next to him._

_Claire watched as the group did a quick "three, two, one" countdown before they all downed the shots they were holding. When they were done, one guy grabbed a mostly empty tequila bottle off the side railing and sloppily filled everyone's cup again._

" _Looks like this is the last round," the guy announced. "Unless someone can find another bottle."_

_There was an immediate choir of drunken dismay and protests._

_Again, before they drank them, TJ offered his to Claire, but she shook her head. She'd had tequila before and didn't like it — well, it was fine when mixed in a drink, but she wasn't a fan of it on its own, and they didn't even have lemon or salt. TJ shrugged, tossing it back with the rest of the group, before tossing his cup aside._

_When he turned to her next, his hands slipped around her waist, pulling her towards him, and Claire let her own arms reach up to wrap around his neck. She ignored the "oohs" and whistles from the other men, focusing on TJ instead as he dipped his head down to kiss her._

_She wanted to enjoy the kiss. Normally she really liked kissing him, but the taste of tequila was too strong and she pulled back. "Ugh, yuck," she said with an exaggerated look of disgust. "Tequila is gross, I don't know how you were able to drink that."_

" _You wouldn't mind if you'd had some," TJ replied with a laugh, his eyes glazed over and slightly unfocused. "We should find another bottle and get a couple of shots into you."_

" _No way," Claire disagreed. "Besides, I need to get going."_

" _Now?" TJ looked disappointed, his smile slipping. "But the party's just getting started."_

" _Just? We've been here for like three hours, TJ," she laughed. "I told you earlier I couldn't stay long. I've got things to do this weekend."_

" _One night of fun wouldn't kill you," he grumbled._

" _It's not about one night," Claire protested. "It's about not losing my whole weekend because I end up sleeping all day tomorrow."_

" _FOUND ONE!"_

_Claire and TJ both turned in the direction where the shout had come from to see one of the guys who'd been drinking with TJ was returning, a full bottle of tequila in his hands._

" _I'm not ready to go," TJ told her, before joining in the cheering from those around him. "Stay, have some shots. I promise you'll forget all about that assignment."_

" _I don't_ want _to forget about it," Claire said. "I need to get home." She moved to step back, but TJ still had his arms around her, and he tightened his grip._

" _Not yet," he repeated, notes of authority creeping into his voice._

" _You can stay, but I'm leaving," she said more forcefully, again trying to step back. She couldn't help but cry out, as his grip tightened even further, his fingers digging into her sides._

" _Just a couple of shots, it's not a big deal," TJ said. He let go with one hand, but before she could move away, he used his other hand to pull her closer to his side. "I need a glass for Claire," he told the group._

" _TJ, let go," Claire said, struggling more against his grip. "I told you I don't want one. I'm leaving."_

" _I knew you couldn't handle your alcohol, TJ, didn't realize you also couldn't handle your woman," one of the guys said, the rest of the group immediately letting out low whistles and shouts._

" _Oh, shut up," TJ said to the group, before he turned his attention back to Claire. She was dismayed that he continued to try to shove a filled shot glass into her hand. "Stop being such a bitch about this. It'd do you good to have some and relax," he hissed at her. "You're making me look bad."_

_Claire didn't recognize this TJ, he was acting so differently than she'd ever seen before, and she wasn't really sure how to deal with it. She wished they were still inside where some of their mutual friends were, instead of out here surrounded just by his. Unsure how to get out of the situation without causing a scene, she accepted the glass. She figured she could just dump it onto the ground when everyone drank._

" _Good for you, showing her who wears the pants in the relationship," another one of the guys said with a laugh._

_Claire bit her lip, swallowing the retort that immediately came to mind. It was bad enough that she wasn't sure how to deal with TJ, but there was no way she could handle taking on the whole group of guys. As one of the guys led the countdown for the shot, she could feel TJ's grip digging in even deeper into her side, as he kept her next to him and she almost cried out again in pain._

_Seething, Claire changed her mind. Screw not making a scene. When everyone went to drink, she felt TJ's grip loosen, and she used the opportunity to jerk away from him, at the same time tossing her shot into his face._

_At his shocked gasp, followed almost immediately by "What the fuck, Claire?!" the group of guys they were standing with all went quiet. The backyard was still pretty loud, considering you could hear music from the house and there were other people out there. Still, Claire felt a little put on the spot. She worked to keep her voice steady, as she focused her attention on TJ, trying to ignore everyone else. "I told you I didn't want one."_

_She didn't wait to see what he would say (or do), instead quickly turning and heading back into the house. Thankfully, while the party was taking place off-campus, it wasn't far from her dorm. And even more thankfully, she was wearing her converse sneakers. Claire made her way through the crowd and out the front door. She could feel her heart pounding, but she didn't dare look back. She was pretty sure he hadn't followed her, considering she hadn't heard anyone calling her name. But she wasn't sure if she'd feel better or worse if she found him behind her. She had never seen him act like he had tonight, and she wanted him to go back to being the guy she'd arrived at the party with. But she was also scared that he was too drunk and she didn't want things to escalate even more._

_It wasn't until she was down the street and around a corner that she felt like she could finally start to breathe again and she no longer felt like she needed to break into a run. Her heart was still pounding in her chest and her hands felt sweaty. As she continued to speed walk the final couple of blocks home, Claire started to wonder if maybe she'd overreacted. Would it have really been so bad to have had one shot?_

_Opening the door to her building, she was surprised when she felt a pull in her side. She waited until she'd made it back to her room that (thankfully) was empty as Sarah was still out. Claire pulled up her shirt, looking down at her side, not entirely surprised when she realized she could clearly see red marks almost in the shape of a hand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, TJ isn't so nice after all (of course, we were all expecting that, right?), and now he's on the island and Claire has to deal with him. And Owen is always observing behaviour...
> 
> Halfway through this fic now (8 chapters total). Feels like it's flying by.
> 
> Keep an eye out this weekend for a new Snapshot featuring our favourite dog - Murphy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_That night, Claire changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, curling up in a ball as she debated what to do. She was waiting for Sarah to come home, wanting what she hoped would be a friendly ear and someone who could help her sort through her conflicting thoughts. But, as her adrenaline finally receded, she grew tired, and before she knew it, she'd fallen asleep._

_The following morning, Claire carefully examined her side in the shower, the red marks having turned into ugly bruises overnight. At least because of their location, they were easily hidden under her shirt, which bought her some time to figure out what to say. After sleeping on it, she was no longer sure what she should do and if she should even say anything to Sarah. Or if maybe she should wait to see if TJ reached out to her first and what he said._

_Claire wouldn't claim that her parents had the perfect marriage. She had definitely heard them fight on more than one occasion. But she'd never, ever seen her dad (or her mom, for that matter) do anything in anger that would leave a mark on the other. She'd generally lived a pretty sheltered life, really. She didn't know of any friends or family members who had been physically hurt by someone they were in a relationship with._

_She found herself mentally stumbling around, unsure how to even label TJ's actions from the night before. Was this… abuse? The word seemed so harsh, and it had only been the one occasion, after all. He'd been perfectly nice, courteous and polite, the rest of the time she'd been with him. But, by saying that, was she now making excuses for him? Claire didn't like to think of herself as a pushover. She had always prided herself on standing up for what she believed was right. So surely she wouldn't be with someone who would hurt her. Except… didn't last night show that she was?_

_By the time Claire finished showering and got dressed, she felt no more settled over what she should do than she had before. Every few minutes she'd change her mind from 'tell Sarah' to 'tell no one' to 'wait until TJ phones and see what he says'._

_In the end, the decision was made for her. Sarah was still asleep in their shared room, and so Claire slipped out quietly, deciding that she'd go get a coffee while she continued to muddle through the situation._

_She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice when TJ came up behind her as she was waiting in line at the nearby cafe, not until his hand slipped around her waist. She jumped, both in surprise and also in pain, because while he wasn't holding onto her tightly, his hand had landed directly over top of her bruises from the previous evening._

" _TJ!' Claire exclaimed, her gaze darting around the area, not sure exactly what she was looking for, a touch of nervousness creeping into her voice. "What are you doing here?"_

" _Coffee," he replied, grinning at her as if nothing was wrong, before leaning down to try to give her a kiss. Claire managed to turn her head, his lips landing on her cheek instead. "What's up with you?" TJ asked, frowning as he stood back up._

" _Um." She wasn't sure how to respond to that, but got another break when a moment later the barista motioned them forward. After they placed their orders and paid for their drinks, they moved along the counter to wait._

" _Something wrong?" TJ asked._

" _Um," Claire said again, as she glanced around once more._

 _She didn't really want to talk about the previous night somewhere so public. Although, as soon as she had that thought, she realized she didn't want to talk about it somewhere private either. She was also confused by his behaviour. Shouldn't he be mad at her for throwing the shot in his face? Had he somehow forgotten it had happened? She hadn't thought he was_ that _drunk._

" _What do you… what do you remember about last night?" she finally asked._

" _Last night?" he seemed confused by her question. "You mean the party?"_

" _Yeah, about what happened at the party," she confirmed. As he was about to answer, the barista called out their names, and they both stepped forward to pick up their drinks. Claire took a sip of hers, before she returned her attention to TJ. "Let's go sit outside."_

" _Sure," TJ easily agreed, following after her._

_They found a bench not far from the cafe and sat down. It seemed like a good compromise between public and private, to Claire. They weren't beside people who could easily overhear, but if she needed help or anything, she wasn't exactly alone either._

" _So, the party?" Claire asked again, hesitantly._

" _I remember you throwing the tequila at me, if that's what you're asking," TJ answered._

" _I am…" she said, nodding slowly, unsure how he was going to react. He seemed to be in too good of a mood. She didn't know what to make of it._

" _I still don't get why," he said. "I mean, what was the big deal about me giving you a shot? It's not like you don't drink."_

" _I didn't want it," she reminded him, feeling the same frustration flare up in her chest that had pushed her to toss the drink in his face the night before. "I told you that, multiple times. You just kept shoving it at me."_

 _TJ gaped at her. "It was_ one _shot!"_

" _And I gave you a simple answer:_ no _."_

" _And that meant you should throw it at me?" TJ exclaimed, his jovial demeanor slipping. "Are you crazy? You're lucky I managed to get all the guys to think you throwing the shot was a joke."_

" _Or what?" Claire said, a dare in her voice. "Are you too weak to stand up to your friends? What does it matter what they think? I was the one who was uncomfortable. Besides—" She cut herself off, rethinking her words mid sentence. Instead, she changed her tack, the answer as to what she should do suddenly crystal clear. "Actually, you know what, I'm done. We're over."_

" _What? Because of a shot?" he said, staring at her in disbelief. "Really, you're going to end things over that?"_

" _Not just because of the shot," she said, rolling her eyes. "Things last night… It was too much. I no longer feel—" she cut off again, realizing she was about to tell him that she felt unsafe around him, and that didn't feel like the right thing to say. Or the_ safe _thing. She had been about to mention the bruises she had, but now she wasn't sure she wanted him to know. Instead, she inched away from him, wanting more space between them, as she continued to clutch her hot coffee in between them. Her gaze darted down to it momentarily._

" _You better not be planning on throwing that at me," TJ said, the warning tone in his voice clear._

" _I'm not," Claire lied. "But, like I said, I'm done."_

_She didn't give him a chance to say anything, instead standing up and hurriedly walking away. Good riddance._

o-o-o

Pulling open the door, Claire strode confidently through the entrance of Nobu. While she wasn't particularly excited about having to sit through a meal with TJ—Tom— at least Thomas, Mike and Rick would all be there, too. They seemed to be nice enough. And, she'd get to eat at her favourite restaurant. Small consolation, sure, but better than _no_ consolation.

There was already a couple standing with the maître d' so Claire stayed back, although she did peer into the restaurant, trying to spot the group in case they'd already arrived and been seated. However, the main restaurant area was mostly hidden behind paper shoji.

As Claire stepped forward when the maître d' returned from seating the couple, the front door opened again and before she could even turn and look, she felt a hand slide familiarly across her back and around her waist. She stiffened instantly, knowing who it must be. It had felt like the entire afternoon when she'd re-met up with the group that she'd been dodging TJ.

Stepping to the side, she turned so that TJ's hand dropped away. However, her surprise (and disgust) at his action was almost immediately forgotten as she looked past him, expecting to see the rest of the group, only to discover he was alone.

"Are your dad and the others already here? Or are we still waiting for them?" Claire asked formally as a kernel of dread started to grow in her stomach.

"Oh, no, it's just us," TJ replied with a smile as he confidently stepped towards the maître d', announcing his name and that he had a reservation for _two_.

"Just us?" Claire repeated haltingly as she followed after him, trying to keep her voice low, especially when she saw the maître d's eyes dart towards her.

"My dad's not a fan of sushi," TJ said, once again reaching out to place his hand on her back as the maître d' started leading them towards their table. "They went to Winston's."

Claire quickly dodged away, swatting his hand down. "Then we should go over to Winston's to join them," she insisted, fully prepared to turn around and head for the exit.

"No, no, no," he laughed off her suggestion. "My dad knows we knew each other back in college. They're fine with us just _catching up._ Just like old times, isn't it?"

"Right," Claire said softly as she continued to trail after him. She was trying to figure out an excuse, a reason that she _couldn't_ be there, or why she needed to leave early. In the past, when some overbearing investors had required dinner meetings, she'd arrange ahead of time for Zara to call her after a set amount of time to bail her out with a "work emergency." However, she hadn't expected to need it tonight, and was now feeling stupid that she hadn't set it up just in case. She was half tempted to just turn around and walk out, but because this was her favourite restaurant, the staff all knew her, and she just _knew_ that would start a whole series of rumours and gossip. Suffering through the dinner seemed like the lesser of two evils.

As they stopped beside a table, Claire was relieved to see that they had been led to one of the tables meant for two, with the place settings opposite each other, instead of one of the larger booths or more intimate table setups. Sitting down, she thanked the maître d' as she was handed the menu, before letting her gaze drift around the restaurant. As this was one of her favourite places on the island, she was really hoping tonight was not going to end up ruining that for her.

Just as her gaze was about to come back to rest on TJ, Claire did a double take. Sitting behind TJ, at the bar that stretched most of the length of one wall, was Owen. His back was to her as he was currently chatting with the bartender, which gave her a chance to look him over unnoticed. Unlike earlier that day, or on the night of their date, he was actually relatively dressed up. He did appear to be wearing jeans and not dress pants, but they were a dark wash, and he'd paired them with a collared shirt, which, much to her annoyance, was a good look on him.

So, apparently he _did_ know how to get dressed up. She could feel a frown starting to cross her face, as she realized the stools on either side of him were currently empty. Was he waiting for a date? Someone worthy of more effort than she had been? Had to be, otherwise why would he be there?

"What are you looking at?" TJ asked, and Claire snapped her gaze to him just in time to see him looking over his shoulder.

"Nothing, just lost in thought for a moment," she supplied smoothly, picking up her menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"

While she waited for him to respond, she risked a glance over his shoulder again, only to find that Owen had turned in his seat and was looking towards her. She briefly met his gaze head on, before tearing hers away, purposefully focusing all of her attention back on TJ.

o-o-o

Owen wasn't big on making plans. He had to do that with his raptors, and so he preferred to just sort of deal with everything else as it happened. And so when he'd decided that maybe he'd finally go check out Nobu that evening, he hadn't put much thought into it. However, since he knew it was a fancier restaurant, he had made sure to shower and change before he'd gone into the park. He also had no idea what time Claire's dinner was going to be happening (and that was assuming her dinner _was_ even happening).

When he'd first walked into the restaurant and the maître d' had asked him if he had a reservation he'd momentarily froze, expecting that his "plans" (as they were) were about to be dashed. However, when he'd said no, he hadn't, but it was just for him, the maître d' had simply asked if he was okay eating at the bar, an option he'd been glad to accept. That would probably give him a better overview of the whole place, and he also wouldn't have to be one of those single people sitting at a table alone that got all the pity looks.

As he'd walked through the restaurant to the bar, he'd scanned over all the tables, but hadn't spotted Claire or any of the guys who'd been out at the paddock. He'd quickly ordered a beer from the bartender as he started to half peruse the menu, his gaze darting towards the front entrance every few minutes, watching for new arrivals. There was no TV or anything else at the bar to keep his attention, but it wasn't long before Owen got sucked into a bit of a conversation with the bartender, as he admitted that he'd never eaten there before and didn't know much about Japanese food.

While Owen waited for his food, he continued to glance around the restaurant occasionally, although with less and less frequency, as Claire didn't show. By the time his order arrived, he'd decided that she must have turned the guy down, or the group had decided on a different restaurant. Besides, what had he really thought he was going to accomplish coming here in the first place? Claire probably had business dinners most evenings.

He just hadn't been able to get the way she had seemed to be always trying to step away from that Tom guy out of his mind. He'd never seen her look quite so uncomfortable before. Well, okay, not entirely true — there was their date, but that had been different. There had just been something about her behaviour, combined with the fact that she seemed to know this guy, that had left him feeling uneasy.

Owen had almost asked Barry to go to Nobu with him that night, as he thought that if Claire _did_ show up and if she saw him, he'd be better able to play off that he was just there for dinner if he wasn't alone. But, he hadn't been able to figure out a way to ask Barry without having to admit the _real_ reason he wanted to go, and he really didn't want to do that.

Not long after his food arrived, the bartender — Amir — came back over and asked him what he thought of what he'd ordered and if Amir's suggestions had been good ones. They continued to chat while Owen ate and as Amir wiped down the counter behind the bar while he waited for the next drink order to fill.

"Oh," Amir suddenly said, straightening up as he looked at something behind Owen.

"What?"

"Ms. Dearing," Amir replied. "I didn't know she was coming tonight."

"Something wrong?" Owen asked, resisting the urge to turn around and check for himself, as he tried not to sound too eager or too curious.

"No," Amir said, with a quick head shake. "She comes in quite frequently, but usually we have a heads up. My boss is always on us to make sure we look our best when Ms. Dearing's here. We're her favourite restaurant and my boss wants to make sure we stay that way. There's sort of an internal rivalry between us and Winston's. Although, I don't think she knows that." He paused, looking past Owen once more in the direction Owen assumed Claire was. Amir turned back to him, giving Owen a large smile, "I don't mind, though. She always tips well."

"Hm," Owen nodded, not that surprised by the news. While he knew the rumours and such that went around about Claire, he also knew that as much as people talked about her being controlling and wanting everything done _just right_ , they didn't really think _she_ was a bad person, just more that she could be overbearing to work for, or with.

A minute later Amir was distracted by a new drink order, and Owen had a chance to finally turn around. He actually looked right past her at first, having been expecting a group of four, but her hair caught his attention, a frown crossing his face when he realized she was alone with just Tom. Before he could glance away, Claire looked up, her gaze latching onto his and Owen willed himself to not look embarrassed and just held it. He could feel her confusion at his presence, but she didn't maintain eye contact for long, quickly returning her attention back to Tom.

Owen continued to watch her for another few seconds before turning back to his dinner. Now that she actually was there, and now that he saw that she was alone with Tom, he wasn't sure what to do. He really hadn't completely thought this through. Picking up another bite of food, he cocked his head to the side as he chewed, considering his options, his gaze wandering over the back of the bar and the various colourful bottles, before coming to rest on the mirrored backing.

Shifting around a bit, Owen eventually was able to find an angle that allowed him to continue eating, while also getting glimpses of Claire and Tom in the mirror. It didn't really solve his problem of what to do now, but at least he could sort of keep an eye on them without having to stare directly at them, which he was _sure_ would only result in Claire being pissed off. He tried not to be obvious that he was spying on them, alternating between focusing down on his food and glancing up towards the mirror.

He wasn't really sure what to make of what he was seeing. He couldn't hear their conversation and so he only had the glimpses of body language he could see to go off of. And even with that, he could only see the back of Tom, but the guy seemed to be relaxed and enjoying himself. Claire, on the other hand, looked a little stiff; almost like she was on guard or wanting to bolt for the door. Although on guard against _what_ , he couldn't figure out.

Owen had been on an uncomfortable date with Claire before, and as he watched, he realized he had sort of expected her to be behaving similarly. Not that he thought she was on a date — he was pretty sure it _wasn't_ a date, given her attitude towards Tom at the paddock. But she seemed different tonight. She definitely wasn't looking happy to be there, but she didn't have the same sort of "annoyed/pissed off" look he remembered from his date, where he knew he wasn't living up to her expectations. Tonight was different, she seemed… uneasy.

As he was nearing the end of his meal, Owen still hadn't figured out what (if anything) he should do. While Claire continued to look uncomfortable, she had been talking with Tom and no one else in the restaurant seemed concerned. Maybe he was just overreacting and seeing things that weren't there. It was just that he generally trusted his instincts. They were what had made him good at his job.

" _What are you doing here?_ "

The sudden hissed comment coming from beside him had Owen almost falling off his stool. He'd been so lost in his thoughts and focused on his food that he hadn't even heard anyone approach. He turned slightly to see that Claire was standing almost beside him. Not close enough that it looked like she was there to talk to him, but close enough that she could easily do so. She wasn't looking at him, her gaze focused straight ahead instead, her hands gripping the counter.

"I'm having dinner," he promptly replied, using his chopsticks to point at his plate. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"You've been watching me. I can _feel_ it," Claire said. "You're not as discreet as you think you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Owen said, giving a slight shrug before picking up another bite and popping it into his mouth.

"Well, finish your dinner and get out of here," she replied.

"Why? Restaurants are a public place, I have the same right to be here as you do," he said. "Besides, I was thinking of ordering dessert. I'm not done yet."

"What?" Claire said in a forceful whisper. "You can't order dessert. You need to go. As if this dinner isn't—"

When she cut off, Owen glanced towards her again, surprised to see she was now chewing on her lip, looking even more uncomfortable than she had earlier.

"As if your dinner isn't _what_?" he asked. He wasn't surprised when she didn't answer, the fingers of one hand now tapping anxiously against the counter. "What's with this guy? How do you know him? Where are all the others?"

"Are you following me?" she said, finally turning to look at him.

"I was here before you," Owen reminded her, before pointing at his dinner again. "And I'm eating dinner. But this guy creeps you out. I can see it, Claire. I just don't get _why_."

"No, he doesn't," she immediately denied, and Owen just looked at her in disbelief, a single eyebrow raised in an 'are you kidding me?' way. "Fine, he's not my favourite person. But I don't need your help. I can handle myself."

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should have to," he countered. "Seriously, Claire, let me help."

Before Claire could reply, Amir was standing in front of them. "Ms. Dearing, is there something I can get you? What happened to Jorge?" he asked, looking slightly panicked at her presence.

"Nothing's wrong, Amir. Everything's great as usual," Claire reassured the bartender with the first genuine smile Owen had seen on her all day. Of course, it disappeared almost instantly as she sent a sideways look at Owen. "Just needed to have a few words with Mr. Grady here."

"Okay..." Amir said, his gaze jumping between Claire and Owen, clearly curious, but knowing that it wasn't his place to ask questions. After a short pause, he moved further down the bar.

"Just go home, please," Claire said, her voice low as her gaze darted after Amir, probably assuming (the same way Owen was) that he was trying hard to listen in to what they were discussing. "I don't need you to babysit me."

"I'm not—" Owen started to protest, but Claire cut him off.

"Actually, you know what? Tom has been asking if I can take them to any other exhibits tomorrow. And since you seem so interested in them, I think I'll bring them by the raptors. I'm sure they'd love to see them."

"Wait, what?" Owen sputtered as he gaped at her. "You can't do that. The raptors aren't a public attraction."

"I can, actually," Claire replied, looking at him victoriously. "These guys are looking to invest in the park. And it's investment money that keeps those raptors fed and alive. They definitely aren't bringing in any money on their own. It's about time we started showing them to investors."

Before Owen could say anything else, Claire turned on her heel, heading back to her table. Not that he knew what to say. Mostly, he was hoping that she was joking about bringing the investors out to see the raptors. She must be, right? Surely she wouldn't _actually_ want him to spend more time around Tom. Would she?

As Owen was contemplating what to do, Amir returned. "What was that about?" Amir asked, his eyes wide. "She looked mad."

"I owe her a report," Owen quickly covered. An idea hit, and he quickly added, "I was out at Paddock 11 doing some work for her and Mr. Masrani today."

"Paddock 11?" Amir asked, leaning forward. "You got to see what's out there? Can you tell me?"

"Nope, sorry," Owen said, grateful that mentioning that paddock continued to be an easy way to distract any Jurassic World employee. "My lips are sealed."

"Fine," Amir looked disappointed, but not surprised. "Can I get you anything else? Dessert?" he asked, looking down at Owen's now empty plate.

"Just the bill," Owen replied. "I better go finish off that report."

o-o-o

Walking away from Owen, knowing she'd gotten in a jab with her comment about taking TJ and the others by the raptor paddock, Claire felt a momentary elation. Of course, it was deflated the moment she set eyes on TJ again and remembered that a) she still needed to make it through the rest of her dinner and b) now she _had_ to spend more time with them tomorrow or Owen would think she was chickening out.

"What was that all about?" TJ asked, the moment she slipped back into her seat, glancing over his shoulder at Owen. "Is that the guy from earlier? What did he want?"

"Mr. Grady, yes," Claire nodded, nonchalantly. "I was just checking with him about bringing you and the others around to the velociraptor paddock tomorrow. I thought you would all enjoy seeing that."

"I don't remember seeing velociraptors mentioned anywhere," TJ said, his brow creasing. "Are they one of the public displays?"

"No, they're actually a research project," Claire told him, happy to talk about this and not get any other questions about Owen or their past. Work was a much safer topic. "While the majority of the space on Nublar is used for the public park, we also conduct a lot of research as well. We need to in order to develop new assets, like the Indominus you saw earlier. But we also do so in order to learn more about the dinosaurs so we can make sure we are providing everything they need for happy lives. Before John Hammond's original experiments, the only things known about dinosaurs were from fossils. Jurassic Park and now Jurassic World has grown our knowledge by leaps and bounds."

As TJ started to ask her questions about the raptors, and about Jurassic World as a whole, Claire finally felt like she could somewhat relax. These were topics she knew a lot about and talking about them made the dinner feel much more like a business dinner. She could pretend, sort of, that TJ was just like any other investor she'd had dinner with in the past.

However, she was never able to completely forget who he was, and not just because she could still see Owen sitting at the bar. Back in college, she'd managed to rarely interact with TJ after she'd broken up with him. But on the few occasions their paths had crossed, she'd always felt like he was just _waiting_ , although for what or to do what, she didn't know. She got the same sort of "vibe" from him even now, but at least the restaurant was busy and there was nothing he could do there without attracting attention.

She also watched as Amir re-joined Owen, glancing over at her table a couple of times as the two talked. She wondered what they were saying or, more specifically, what _Owen_ was saying. When Amir walked away looking a bit disappointed, she was momentarily surprised. She realized she was expecting Owen to say something to Amir, although she had no idea _what_ he'd say. Was she the one overreacting to his presence? She'd never seen him at Nobu before, but she knew that didn't mean he hadn't been there. Could it be that their tastes in food were more aligned than she'd thought? Or was it more than a coincidence that he was there _tonight_ of all nights?

Before she could think too deeply on that, she was even more surprised as she watched Owen get up from his chair and head for the door, never even glancing in her direction. She returned her attention to TJ, and tried to focus on his questions, grateful when their dinners arrived, and she had that as an additional distraction.

Even as Claire was able to mostly settle into the conversation and push aside thoughts of Owen, she felt like she was on edge, waiting for some _thing_ to happen. She didn't know _what_ would happen, it was just that things had ended so badly at the university, that she couldn't imagine that tonight was going to turn out to be pleasant. Not after how TJ had acted earlier, and the fact that he'd essentially tricked her into showing up for dinner with him.

She felt like she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For TJ to let go of his pretend "nice guy" act, and to show his true colours. Although it had been over 15 years, maybe he'd grown? She'd changed, so he could've too. What she hated even more, though, was that she found her gaze still darting towards the stool Owen had been occupying, wishing he was still there. That there had been something comforting about his presence (under all the layers of annoyance it had brought on). It hadn't gone unnoticed to her how he'd given her more space at the paddock earlier, and then had somewhat stepped between her and TJ. She couldn't remember the last time someone had done something like that for her, without her having to ask. But, she reminded herself, she didn't need his help. She could take care of herself. She'd done it before at 19, surely she could do so tonight.

However, it wasn't until they were finally settling the bill and heading out the door, that Claire realized her mistake. She'd been so on guard for something to happen _during_ dinner, that she hadn't made any plans for how she was going to deal with _after_ dinner. Normally, it wasn't difficult to part ways with whatever investors she had a business dinner with. She'd exit the restaurant with them, and then wait for them to depart for wherever they were headed (or offer them directions to wherever they wanted to go) and then purposefully head in the opposite direction. She knew the park like the back of her hand, so if she really needed to head the same way as them, she'd just double back taking a different route.

But as they stepped outside, TJ again reached for her, trying to slip his hand once again around her waist, and Claire, again, quickly dodged to the side.

"Aw, what are you doing that for?" TJ asked. "You used to like when I touched you."

The comment brought on an unbidden flush to her face. She truly hadn't expected him to go there. She suddenly felt 19 all over again, not the powerful business woman she knew she was.

"That was a long time ago," she reminded him. "We haven't dated in almost 15 years. And things didn't end well, or do you not remember?"

"I remember you being stuck up about tequila," he replied, his voice nearly dismissive as though the entire incident had been merely an inconvenience. "But we had good times. I figured you would've learned to relax by now. Surely you're not still mad about all that. You were overreacting even back then."

"I was not—" she started, before letting out a huff as she took another step away from him. "Whatever. I need to go."

She started to walk away, but almost immediately TJ reached out, grabbing her arm and holding her in place. While it wasn't particularly late, and there were still a number of people strolling up and down Main Street and in and out of the still open Jurassic World restaurants and other shops, Claire suddenly felt very alone.

"I'll walk you," TJ told her, his grip still tight.

"No need, I know my way around here," Claire replied, trying to yank her arm away, but his grip just tightened. She managed to suppress a cry of pain. She didn't want him to know he was getting to her.

"It's dark," he said. "It's not safe for women to walk alone late at night."

"Maybe where _you're_ from," she shot back, "But Jurassic World is very safe. Just let me go, TJ."

"It's Tom, I told you that," he hissed through his teeth, leaning closer to her. "TJ's a kid's name. I'm not that person anymore. Do you know the hit my reputation took from you? How much work I had to do to rebuild it?"

It took all of Claire's control to not respond to that. He hadn't had to do anything. After all, no one had been on her side. That was still her main memory from the whole thing. That everyone took his side over hers, and that she was left alone. But, she also wouldn't change anything from how she'd reacted back then. In fact, if she could go back there now, as who she was today, she knew she'd have reacted even more _strongly_ and been much more outspoken about it all.

"Fine, _Tom_. Just let me go." Again, she tried to pull her arm away, but he tightened his grip.

She looked around the area, wishing she hadn't sent Owen away. Or that she'd used him to provide an excuse to get her out of the dinner earlier. Why hadn't she trusted him? Even on their horrible date, she'd never been concerned that Owen was going to act anything like how TJ was right now. And she knew that Owen had drank a lot more on their date than TJ had tonight.

"C'mon, just let me walk you," TJ said again. "If you don't want to tell me where you live, we can just go back to the hotel."

That, unfortunately, was also part of the problem. She _didn't_ want to tell him where she lived, but she also lived at the hotel.

"I actually still have some work I need to get done," Claire lied. "I'm due at the control room."

"Then I'll walk you there," he said. "Which way?"

"Tom, Claire, how was your dinner? Did you two have a good time catching up?"

Claire had never felt so relieved in her life as she did when she turned to see Thomas, Rick and Mike approaching the two. Almost immediately, TJ dropped his hand from her arm, and Claire quickly crossed her arms in front of her, wanting to make sure he couldn't easily reach for her again.

"Nobu is one of my favourite restaurants," Claire said, forcing out a smile, purposefully ignoring the second question. Instead, she focused on using the opportunity to get out of there. "Unfortunately, I have some work I need to finish up still tonight. But I was able to arrange a visit to the velociraptor paddock tomorrow, if you are interested."

"Oh, velociraptors," Mike said, his eyes lighting up. "I remember reading about those. I didn't know there were any here."

"They're a research project, not part of the public dinosaur exhibits," Claire replied. "Tom can fill you all in. I really do need to get going. But I'll see you all tomorrow?"

She barely gave them a chance to reply, before she quickly spun around and headed away from them. It wasn't until she made it to the main control building (she'd decided that she didn't want to go home yet, not until enough time had passed to ensure she wouldn't run into TJ or any of the others) that she felt like she could fully breathe again.

As she closed her office door behind her, she gingerly pulled up the sleeve of her blouse, wincing at the red marks that were already appearing around her wrist. Looking at them just brought back all her memories from that night at the party all those years ago. And then everything that had happened after. She angrily blinked back tears. She had stood up for herself back then, and she had done so again tonight. She was going to be fine. All she had to do was get through tomorrow, and then she'd never have to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people have been expecting (especially with the TW) for the interactions with Claire and TJ in college to get a lot worse than chapter 4. But, I didn't want to go that far with it, and I like to believe that Claire has always been a strong personality. That doesn't mean she can't make mistakes, date the wrong person (she did here), but that in this case, the way it happened, allowed her to break away sooner. This story is much more about Claire remembering she can take care of herself.
> 
> Of course, that doesn't mean Owen doesn't get to play a role...
> 
> Anyway, would love to hear your thoughts. See you all in a week.
> 
> (OHHH, forgot to mention, I posted a new snapshot on Sunday. [Step By Step](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882443/chapters/73208964#workskin). A fun one around Murphy.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

" _I still can't believe you broke up with him."_

_Claire looked up from where she'd been poking at her dinner, not feeling particularly hungry. "What was I supposed to do? How do you stay with someone after that?"_

" _No, you're right," Sarah said, placing her fork down. "What he did was not okay. I just… I mean, I_ saw _the bruises, and yet… It's still so hard for me to wrap my head around him doing that. Do you know what I mean? And I_ know _that sounds stupid. Obviously he did. I believe that. I'm not doubting you. It's just…" She gave a loose shrug, looking earnestly at Claire. "I really am glad you broke up with him."_

" _At least_ you _believe me," Claire muttered, finally tossing her fork onto her plate. There was no point even trying to pretend to eat. "Have you heard the rumours?"_

" _Have_ you _heard them?" Sarah's eyes were wide._

_Claire nodded._

" _Oh, I was hoping you hadn't," Sarah admitted. "They're just rumours. And you and I know they're wrong. Ignore them."_

" _Thanks," Claire gave her a weak smile. "I'm glad I have you."_

_Sarah picked up her fork again and took another bite of her dinner, but Claire just glanced around the dinning hall. It was relatively busy, a constant hum of noise, but she couldn't make out any of the conversations around her. That was probably a good thing. She had never expected that college campuses could end up so much like high school. Weren't they supposed to be more "grown up" than that? Instead, there was still gossip around every corner, especially among all the people who lived in the dorms._

" _I'm not crazy for thinking the fact that he was drinking is not an excuse, right?" Claire suddenly asked, returning her attention to Sarah. "I mean, it's easy enough to ignore the people who are saying they think he's good looking, or that they would want to date him because his family is rich. I don't care about those things. But… so many people seem to think that I'm overreacting. That he was drinking. That it was 'just one shot.'"_

" _Well…" Sarah said carefully, clearly weighing her words. "First of all, no, you're not crazy. Drinking shouldn't be an excuse. It's one thing to do something stupid when drunk, like decide you suddenly know how to skateboard. But that's not even close to what he did to you. But, and I don't mean this to defend any of the others, but most people only know about the shot. And they only know the drunk guy version, which is that at the party you got mad about shots and threw one at TJ and then the next day broke up over it. That doesn't make them right when they say you're overreacting. But they don't know about the bruises."_

_Claire opened her mouth, ready to interrupt and defend herself, but Sarah stopped her._

" _And I get why they don't. I'm not trying to suggest you should tell people. And now, after so much time has passed, I think, unfortunately, most people won't believe you. But that's because people–"_

"– _suck. I know," Claire finished Sarah's line, before letting out a sigh. "I just wish they didn't."_

" _Same," Sarah agreed. "Hey, you know what, this dinner sucks," she said, pushing away from the table. "Let's go order pizza and eat in our room. We don't need to be here."_

_Before Claire could respond, Sarah had already grabbed both of their trays off the table and was carrying them over to the return area. Claire quickly followed after her._

" _Can we get olives?" Claire asked when she caught up._

" _Ugh, only on your half," Sarah replied, wrinkling her nose. "The things I do for you."_

_Claire grinned, feeling the tightness in her chest ease. Maybe not everyone believed her, but at least she was not completely on her own._

" _It's what makes you such a great friend," she said sincerely._

" _And don't you forget it."_

o-o-o

Even after getting an extra espresso shot in her latte that morning, Claire found she was struggling to stay awake. She'd stayed at her office until quite late, not wanting to risk getting spotted by Tom or any of the others at the hotel. And then, when she'd finally gone home, she'd been unable to sleep, tossing and turning.

And if that wasn't bad enough, her day had started with Zara popping into her office saying that Thomas had phoned and wanted to know when and where to meet her for the trip to the raptor paddock. Claire had already forgotten about her suggestion last night, her mind too focused on everything else, and Zara had been clearly caught off guard by it as well. They had then spent the first part of the day scrambling to rearrange her calendar so Claire could fit it in. And if that wasn't bad enough, Zara had been peppering her all morning with questions about why Claire had decided to add a visit _there_.

Claire hadn't wanted to tell her about Owen having shown up at dinner the previous evening. And she also didn't want to admit that her reason for suggesting the visit in the first place was just to piss Owen off. An idea which, she was realizing, was now mostly backfiring on her. Sure, Owen was likely to be annoyed, but it also meant that she had to spend more time with TJ today.

In the end, she drove the investors out to the paddock just after lunch. She would've preferred to meet them there, but as the raptors were a research project and not an attraction, none of the guest transportation would get them very close. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath when she picked them up, until Thomas opened the front passenger door, and she let out a subtle sigh of relief, realizing she wouldn't have to sit next to TJ.

Pulling up to the raptor paddock, Claire parked her car. It was a really nice day, with the sun shining against a brilliant blue sky, and as they exited her car, Claire could hear the faint sound of waves crashing into the nearby cliffs. It was a bit windy, so as they walked across the open area towards the paddock, Claire tugged the sleeves of her blouse down, making sure her wrist remained covered.

When she'd woken that morning, she'd been mostly annoyed to discover the bruises wrapped around her wrist. She'd hoped that maybe she'd be lucky this time, and that the red marks would have faded away instead of bruising. As if the day wasn't going to be annoying enough, she now felt self-conscious every time she moved her arms, worried that someone might catch sight of the bruises, and having been unable to come up with a reasonable story to cover for them if anyone asked. And then annoyed that she was even _thinking_ of covering for TJ. But… well, she didn't want to make waves. She just wanted to get the day over with, and for TJ to get off her island and, hopefully, out of her life.

Claire led the investors up the stairs to the catwalk that surrounded the paddock, having already spotted Owen up above. She knew he'd seen her as well, considering the moment she'd looked up and spotted him, he'd immediately turned around. But she wasn't going to wait for him to get over his pettiness. The sooner she got this visit over, the sooner _everyone_ would probably feel better.

"Mr. Grady," Claire called out as the group stepped out onto the catwalk. When Owen didn't immediately respond, she suppressed an eye roll and called out again, louder. "Mr. Grady."

That time, she got a response, but it wasn't what she had been expecting, as a snarl came from below. She'd been so focused on Owen, that she hadn't noticed that the raptors were out in the open. And now that she looked down at them, she could see that they were all staring up at her and her visitors. She barely resisted the urge to take a step back.

"Claire _,_ " Owen said, finally crossing the catwalk and joining their group, coming to a stop beside her. "How nice—"

She cut him off, not really sure she wanted to hear what he was about to say, especially given the sour look on his face and the sarcastic tone to his voice. Surely he could suck it up for twenty minutes and get through this? "Mr. Grady, glad you could join us. As I was telling you last night, I've got a group of investors visiting the island who would really like to see the raptors."

"Well, there they are," Owen said stiffly, pointing down into the paddock, where the four raptors were still pacing about restlessly. Claire glared at him, motioning with her hand for him to elaborate. He let out a huff before doing so. "The raptors are almost three years old. Their names are Blue, Charlie, Delta and Echo."

As he said their names, each raptor looked up at the group, and Claire felt a shiver run down her spine. However, unlike at the Indominus paddock, it wasn't from fear. Instead, she felt like she could just _see_ their intelligence and how they were weighing the situation, deciding how they wanted to react.

While Claire had known about the raptor project, and had seen glimpses of the paddock from the control room, she'd never been kept in the loop as to the progress of the research. She heard bits and pieces, of course, and knew when there were incidents, but the last time she'd seen them in person was probably when they were still in the nursery attached to the lab, so almost three years ago. At that time, she remembered thinking that they didn't look any different than any of the other baby dinosaurs she'd seen. That they had actually seemed sort of clumsy, the way they'd stumble about their cage, bumping into each other and falling over. They didn't look that way at all now. Instead, they all looked sleek and powerful and way too intelligent.

"Claire mentioned that the raptors are a research project," Mike said, addressing Owen. "What are you researching? Why not use them as an attraction?"

Claire quickly stepped in before Owen could reply, already sure she wouldn't like his answer. "Simon has always had two goals for Jurassic World from the start. One, was to continue John Hammond's vision of a theme park, letting the world see and experience dinosaurs again. But Simon also has a keen interest and enthusiasm for dinosaurs, and he's always been invested in their welfare. We run a number of research projects, usually through InGen, on the island so that we can increase our knowledge about dinosaurs and our ability to care for them."

"But what does it matter on how to care for these ones if you aren't showing them?" TJ pressed.

"Caring about—" Claire started, but Owen cut her off.

"Just because a species isn't for guests, doesn't mean we don't benefit from learning more about them. And a lot of the information we learn is transferable. Knowledge is knowledge. Out here, we're focused on understanding the raptors' intelligence."

"Intelligence?" TJ scoffed as he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. "They're animals."

"The raptors are _highly_ intelligent. More so than many humans," Owen replied, his gaze focused intently on TJ, and Claire quickly elbowed him. Owen just looked over at her and gave a slight shrug.

"I think I remember reading about the original raptors," Thomas interrupted. "When everything first came out about Jurassic Park. Even back then they commented on their intelligence, didn't they? Something about doors?"

"They did," Owen confirmed. "While the raptors have pretty short arms, kind of like the T. rex, they are a lot more dexterous. They can manipulate objects, like door handles, and enjoy playing with items like balls. Although, that's always been a challenge, as their claws are very sharp."

As the conversation shifted, Mike, Rick and Thomas asking more of the questions, Claire finally allowed herself to relax. Owen was actually being engaging and relatively friendly, sharing little anecdotes about the raptors, and she was grateful for his cooperation. After about ten minutes of questions, she was even more surprised when Owen offered to put a couple of the raptors in their harnesses, so they could get a closer look (although he'd told them they would still need to stay outside the cage).

As they all started towards the stairs, Claire was caught off guard when Owen lightly grasped her elbow, holding her back and letting the rest of the group go ahead.

"What?" she hissed, looking over at him questioningly, pulling her arm out of his grasp. She frowned as she noticed the dirt smudges on her white blouse.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he told her quietly, dipping his head close to her. "After last night."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Claire asked defensively, reaching up to brush at the dirt, hoping to get it off. She couldn't very well spend the rest of her day walking around with a giant smudge on her sleeve.

"Wait, what—?" Owen's hand shot out, as he once again grabbed at her arm. But this time he pulled it slightly towards him, using his other hand to push up her sleeve, exposing her bruised wrist. "What the fuck, Claire?! Did _he_ do this?"

He dropped her arm, and before Claire could say anything or reach for him, he was racing down the stairs behind the investors.

"Owen, wait," she called out, hurrying after him. However, she was wearing heels, and the grated steps made it difficult for her to walk quickly. By the time she caught up to them, Owen had TJ slammed up against the side of the paddock, as the other three investors looked on in shock.

o-o-o

Owen had been hoping that Claire would forget about her threat to bring Tom and the other investors by the raptor paddock. That it would be just one of those things said in the heat of the moment just to get on his nerves. When his phone had rung that morning, Zara's name on the caller ID, he'd almost ignored it. However, he knew she'd probably keep phoning until he picked up, and that if he didn't, she'd probably reach out to someone like Hoskins or Barry and all it would end up doing would be making other people pissed off at him. And it wouldn't help cancel the visit.

As the time for their arrival approached, he'd gathered up a bucket of raptor treats (rats) and headed up the paddock stairs. Just because he had to do it, didn't mean he had to act like he was happy about it. Or go out of his way to be friendly.

He looked up when he heard her car approaching and watched as Claire parked and everyone got out. Owen couldn't help but pay attention to Claire's behaviour and how she interacted with the investors. He knew that she had been uncomfortable last night. And even though he had left, not wanting to be part of what made her evening worse, he'd actually debated hanging around outside, his instincts telling him not to go home just yet. He hadn't, but only because he had been pretty sure that if she had spotted him, her coming out to the raptor paddock would be the least of his worries.

Owen watched as her gaze darted about the area, before she looked up to the top of the paddock. He knew she saw him, but he didn't want to have to go down. Instead, he just turned around and headed out onto the bridge with the treats. He could use the time to lure the raptors out into the open area, to make the visit as brief and as painless as possible.

Once Claire and the investors made it to the top of the catwalk, and she called for him, Owen knew he could no longer ignore them, and he made his way over. The ensuing discussion actually went better than he'd expected. He realized that he'd assumed the rest would act like Tom, but they didn't, and while he found Tom annoying, the rest of the men seemed okay and genuinely interested in what he had to say about the raptors. Before he knew it, he was offering to get a couple of the raptors into their harnesses so they could get a better look.

As everyone turned around and headed for the stairs, Owen reached out and grabbed gently at Claire's elbow, pulling her to a stop. While the visit was going fine, he found himself still curious about how the rest of Claire's evening had gone, and he was pretty sure this would be his only chance to ask her.

"What?" she hissed at him, yanking her arm away. He watched as she rotated her arm, a frown appearing when she (and he) noticed the dirt he'd left on her blouse. Whoops. He grimaced inwardly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Owen told her softly. "After last night."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied defensively as she brushed at the dirt on her blouse.

But Owen didn't even really hear her reply as a flash of purple caught his attention. "Wait, what—?" He shot out his hand, once again grabbing at her arm, this time pushing up her sleeve, hoping he'd been wrong. A very clear ring of bruises surrounded her wrist, a ring that looked very suspiciously like a handprint. "What the fuck, Claire?! Did _he_ do this?"

Owen didn't wait for her to respond, letting go of her as he turned and raced down the stairs, his mind clouded with anger. He didn't even hear Claire calling out behind him.

He reached the ground only a couple of steps behind Tom, and he immediately lunged forward, grabbing the man and swinging him around and into the side of the paddock, shoving him up against the wall.

"I knew there was something off about you," he growled, his eyes narrowing with rage.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tom gasped, grabbing onto Owen's hands to push them away. "What's wrong with you?"

Owen lowered his voice, stepping closer to Tom, making sure that only Tom could hear him. "If you touch her again, I swear to god…"

A moment later, he felt Claire's hand grab onto his arm, trying to pull him back.

"Owen, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted, yanking at him.

Owen let her pull him back a step, before taking advantage of the gap now between him and Tom to draw his other arm back then swinging it forward until his fist connected solidly with Tom's jaw.

At the other man's cry of pain, Owen finally felt like his vision sort of cleared, the red haze evaporating, everything suddenly coming back into sharper focus. There was a cacophony of noises, as it seemed like everyone was currently talking or yelling or, in the case of Tom, whimpering in pain.

"Owen?!" Claire was still tugging on him. "Get away from him."

Owen finally turned his back to Tom, facing Claire instead. She looked horrified, her gaze jumping between him and Tom.

"What _he_ did? That's not okay," Owen told her, his voice sharp, pointing behind himself towards Tom. "That's never okay."

Claire looked at him, momentarily stunned silent, before she shoved past Owen and headed towards Tom. The rest of the investors were all gathered around him.

"I'm so sorry, Tom," Claire immediately said. "I don't know what got into him."

"Hey!" Owen took a step towards the group at Claire's words, but stopped when Claire immediately glared at him. "Don't you dare apologize for me. He deserved it. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Owen, just go away. I'll talk with you later," she said before she turned her back on him.

Owen watched the group for another minute, before he finally realized that most of the people who'd been working at the paddock were watching them all, and he could hear the raptors letting out loud squawks, clearly aware something had happened, but unable to see what it was.

Shaking his head, and then flexing his hand a few times, relieved to note that nothing was broken, Owen finally turned away from the group. He headed back towards the stairs, stopping at the bottom only long enough to demand a tech bring him more rats. He wanted to get away, but he knew that he'd need to deal with the raptors first. And, hopefully that would also give Claire and the investors enough time to clear out.

Stepping out onto the bridge, Owen pulled out his clicker and clicked it a couple of times. "Blue, Charlie, what's going on down there?"

o-o-o

Curled up on her couch, Claire was working away on her laptop. By the time she'd dealt with the fallout of Owen punching TJ, her entire afternoon had been thrown off. Zara had been, thankfully, quite helpful with working to reschedule a bunch of her meetings to later in the week.

Even after doing that, Claire had still ended up with an overflowing inbox of emails to sort through and reports to sign off on. But after a trip down to the control room to get a status update on the park where Lowery had spent the entire time asking her about the punch and " _What did the guy say to piss Owen off?_ " and " _I heard that it has to do with you. What did_ you _do?_ " Claire had had it.

She'd gathered up her work laptop and the stack of folders off her desk and told Zara she was going to do the rest of her work from home. That she just needed a break. When Zara had just nodded sympathetically, Claire had felt even worse, knowing that must mean that Lowery's questions were just the tip of the iceberg.

A long time ago, like back in middle/high school, Claire could still vaguely remember having a conversation with her mom about gossip and rumours. Back then, she'd believed it was something that kids did, and that when she became an adult it'd disappear. She was pretty sure there was nothing in her life she'd ever been so wrong about.

The moment she'd gotten home, she'd changed out of her work attire and into leggings and an old sweatshirt and made tea. Then, she'd taken all of her work over to the couch, wrapped herself up in the blanket she normally kept on the back, turned off the ringer on her phone, and got to work.

Surprisingly, once she got going, Claire found that she was actually being incredibly productive. Without her regular schedule of rushing from meeting to meeting, and with most of her notifications squashed, she was able to just focus on what needed to be done. Maybe she needed to do this more often.

Of course, the moment she had that thought, someone started knocking on her door. Instinctively, Claire looked over at the door even though it would be impossible to know who was there from her position on the couch. But… who _would_ be coming by? Who would even know that she was at home and not in her office?

Suddenly, Claire felt the blood drain from her face as she glanced over at her phone. Had Zara or someone else been trying to reach her and couldn't? Although, she had _told_ Zara she was going to turn off her phone. Of course, that could actually lend _more_ credence to that theory, since Zara would know she'd have to go (or send someone) directly to Claire's place.

Quickly placing her laptop onto the coffee table and pushing the rest of the documents she'd been pouring over off her lap, Claire leapt off the couch and headed for the door. She yanked it open without even bothering to check the peephole, her imagination running away from her.

Except, it wasn't Zara on the other side. Nor was it one of the hotel employees or anyone that Zara would've sent if she needed to get a hold of Claire.

No, instead, the person standing in front of her was Owen.

But why? And, even more so, _how_? While it was well-known that most of the executives had condos in the main hotel on Nublar, _who_ lived in which ones wasn't general public knowledge. And when Claire had met Owen for their date, they had met up outside the Innovation Center.

"How'd you find me?" Claire asked when she finally got over her initial shock.

"Zara," Owen said simply.

Claire continued to just stand there, staring at him. What was he doing there?

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked when she didn't say anything else and the pause continued to stretch.

"Why would I do that?" she replied, but she stepped back instinctively, and Owen used the opportunity to breeze past her into her place. After shutting the door, Claire turned to face him. "Why are you here?"

Owen ignored her question, instead stating firmly: "You need to tell Simon."

"Tell him what?"

"Oh, don't play stupid, Claire," he said. "You need to tell him about what that guy did."

"It's not a big deal," she immediately said, dismissing his concerns. "I just bruise easily."

"Not a big deal?" Owen said, his voice growing louder as he spoke. "Trust me, Claire, it's a huge fucking deal."

"No, what's a big deal is you _punching_ him," she deflected.

"Only because you didn't," he immediately countered.

Claire ignored his comment, instead raising a hand and pointing a finger at him angrily. "What's a big deal is you _jumping to conclusions_. What's a big deal is you thinking you need to _fight my battles for me_."

When he took a step towards her, Claire couldn't help but take a couple of steps back, only to end up with her back against her door. She could feel her heart starting to race, her eyes darting frantically about her place as she looked for an escape.

Owen immediately stopped and took a couple of steps backwards as well, his hands held up, showing he meant no harm. "I wasn't trying—That wasn't… Doing your job does not mean putting up with people like that."

"I don't need you to tell me how to do my job," she countered immediately. "I do it just fine. And it doesn't matter, anyway. They've already left. I won't have to see him again unless they need to come back to sign paperwork."

"You're still going to take money from those creeps?" Owen said, his jaw dropping.

"They're not creeps," Claire protested and Owen immediately scoffed. "Fine, TJ's a creep, but the rest aren't."

"If you take money from him, you do that, you know he'll have a hold over you forever, right?" Owen asked.

Claire couldn't help but mutter, "He already does." Which she knew was the truth. She'd known it from the moment she'd first recognized him when she'd walked into the meeting and from the moment he'd made the crack about tequila. As much as she'd tried to put her past behind her, apparently it was true that you couldn't outrun it. She wrapped an arm around herself defensively, before reaching back and pulling the door open, gesturing for Owen to leave. "I'm not a damsel. I don't need you to save me."

"I'm not trying to save you," Owen said, shaking his head. "I'm not here because I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I know you can. But you don't… You shouldn't have to."

Claire held his gaze for a long moment, before looking away, and again pointing out the door. She couldn't deal with this today. Not on top of everything else.

She heard Owen let out a resigned sigh, before he walked past her and out the door. He stopped, just on the other side of the threshold to look back at her. He opened his mouth as if about to speak, before closing it again and just slightly shaking his head. Claire watched silently as he turned and headed down the hallway and around a corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think of Owen's actions? Was he right? Wrong? Both? And Claire?


End file.
